


Everyone Experiments In College

by rachelladeville



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cas is out and proud, College AU, Cuddling, Dean in Panties, Dean is supportive, Dean might be curious, Dean's a womanizer, Feel like you've read this story a hundred times? You have. Just do it. It'll be fun., Friends with benefits sort of, Glorious full-on anal sex with all the bells and whistles, Hand Jobs, I'll say it again. Dean in panties., Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oblivious Dean, Pining Cas, Sex Toys, Snuggling, Spankings, Student Cas, Student Dean, Sweetness, Team Dean's Red Ass, Voyeurism, digit play, friends to lovers sort of, mutual masterbation, one instance of homophobic language, sex in public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 04:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 87,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13872795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelladeville/pseuds/rachelladeville
Summary: “Hey, Cas,” prompted Dean from the other end of the couch.“Hmm?”“You horny?”“W-what?”“Y’heard me.”“Dean,” said Cas flatly, “I’m a twenty year old gay man. I’m always horny.”He’d been trying to make a joke, but Dean didn’t laugh. Instead, he lifted one leg and pushed on Cas’s thigh with his socked foot.“I’m horny,” he said with a conspiratorial smirk.“So?” chuckled Cas. “Join the club.”“Well, let’s do somethin’ about it,” replied Dean in a matter-of-fact tone.Cas wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He looked over at his friend and saw that the guy’s eyes were resting on him heavily. Dean’s foot shoved at him again. “C’mon, Cas,” he said shamelessly, “you like dick. I have a dick. Whaddaya say?”“I say,” answered Cas, turning back to the television and praying for strength, “that you’re drunk.”“M’not that drunk.”“You’re drunk enough to hit on a dude,” chuckled Cas.“I ain’t hittin’ on you,” corrected Dean, “I’m just sayin’ we could, ya know, help each other out. It don’t gotta be a big deal.”





	1. Life With Dean

**Author's Note:**

> A great many thanks to the lovely, and ever so patient, Destiella. She's such an awesome friend and beta!

                                                   

It was eleven-thirty on a weeknight and he’d been at it for hours. He’d be a doctor someday, that was the dream. But for now, Castiel was just another sophomore trying to pass organic chemistry. Sitting back in his rickety chair, he stretched and rolled his neck on tight shoulders, trying in vain to relieve the tension. The pizza he’d shared with his housemate a few hours ago was still sitting like a rock in the bottom of his stomach and the vague taste of it lingered at the base of his throat, sour and acidic, as heartburn crept up his esophagus.

From below him, on the first floor of their shitty rented house, the muted sounds of raucous laughter were seeping up through the floorboards to infiltrate this, his designated study time. It was hard enough keeping his attention on the preprinted hexagon paper in front of him without the continuous distraction of his friends downstairs, having a good time without him. His frustration was growing as the clock ticked closer to midnight and he rose from his chair, deciding to take a break before frustration became full-blown anger. Besides, it was hard to know who he was even mad at… his best friend for always having so much more fun than him, or himself for having chosen an educational path that required so much studying. If he were a business major, like his roommate, Dean Winchester, he’d be able to spend five hours a night goofing off too.

Cas’s father had warned him that continuing to share an off-campus house with his fast-living best friend was a surefire way to find himself flunking out of school. And, because he knew, on some level, that his father was right, Castiel was ever more determined to prove the man wrong. Besides, they’d been best friends since elementary school… separating from Dean now was unthinkable. It wasn’t just their friendship that bound them, either. They needed each other. Without Cas in his life, Dean would never do any homework, fill out paperwork, pay bills, buy groceries, or any of the other menial chores required of quasi-adults. It was Cas who cajoled Dean into doing the bare minimum required to keep his life from imploding. And as for Castiel, well, what fun would he ever have if it weren’t for the influence of his debauching friend? Hell, if it hadn’t been for Dean, Cas would still be a virgin.

Their senior year in high school, Dean’s jaw had dropped in utter shock. “Wait, you mean to tell me that you’ve… never? Not once?”

“I’ve never had occasion, okay?” he’d challenged, sitting in his tux at four am on prom night and feeling frustrated.

“No. S’not okay. I didn’t know it was even possible to strike out with Pam Macy. She’s given more rides than a Greyhound bus.”

“I got to third base, Dean,” Cas had countered, hoping to close the subject.

“Third base is for freshmen. This is your senior prom.”

Growing indignant, Cas had replied, “If it’s so important that everyone get laid at their prom, then why are you here with me instead of putting the moves on Sara?”

“Well Cas,” Dean had sighed, “I’ve already hit that. And I’m sure I’ll hit it again. Soon. But that can wait. Right now, what’s important to me is makin’ sure that my best buddy isn’t goin’ off to college all pure and undefiled. Now, there’s two things I know for sure. One: Bert and Ernie are gay. Two: You are not goin’ home a virgin tonight.”

“W-What exactly do you plan to do?” Cas had questioned, following his friend as he stood up and began walking. “It’s almost morning-

“Nah, it's early. C’mon,” was all that had been said as Dean opened the door to his beloved ’67 Chevy and gestured for Cas to climb in with him. Cas had already taken his date home, their unsatisfying back-seat fumble abandoned of his own volition, and there was no excuse for not allowing Dean to ‘right some wrongs’ by taking Cas to a strip club.

At first, he hadn’t understood the logic. Even if Dean bought him lap dances until he came in his pants… he’d still technically be a virgin. But, when Dean had leaned in and whispered a proposition to a stripper named Molly Mounds, Cas had come to understand quite quickly. Watching the cash change hands, Castiel had realized that Dean was paying the stripper to do more than dance.

“I can’t,” Cas had practically pleaded, “she’s a hooker.”

“She’s a stripper,” Dean had retorted. Then, a sly grin had spread across his face as he’d said, “No. Wait. She’s… an _entertainer_.”

“If she’s taking money for sex then she’s a hooker. It doesn’t matter if she’s fielding offers here in the club or out on a street corner. Sex for money is hooking. She’s a hooker. Dean, do you really want my first time to be with a hooker?”

“Hey,” Dean had laughed, “I prefer ladies with experience.”

There had been no arguing; not without coming clean and telling his best friend that he might be gay. So, he’d done the deed. It had been surprisingly easy. With Pam Macy, and every other girl he’d ‘gotten comfortable’ with, there had always been a shared social circle. But, with the hooker Dean had bought, there was nothing. He didn’t have to worry about her blabbing to the whole school about what he said and did (or didn’t) do.

Because of that, once they were alone together, he had confided in her. He’d been perfectly honest and said, “My friend is just trying to be nice. He’s overly invested, it would seem, in making sure I’ve experienced sex. But the truth is, I think I might be gay and I just haven’t worked up the nerve to tell him yet. I doubt he’ll take it well.”

“Oh honey,” she’d cooed at him, “do you want me to just tell him you did it?”

“Would you?”

“Sure. But, you said you _think_ you _might_ be gay. You wanna know for sure, sugar?”

Yes, absolutely, he’d wanted to know for sure. With that thought in mind, he’d put himself into her knowledgeable hands. It had been laughable how much effort  she’d had to put in, just to get him hard. Between his nerves and his preferences, his poor cock had been quite timid. But in the end, spending forty minutes with her had removed all the doubts that Cas had been harboring.

Then, with Cas’s virginity officially taken, Dean had celebrated loudly, slapping him on the back, buying him a drink, and pronouncing him to be ‘a real man’ now. After that, it had taken another three agonizing weeks before he’d been able to come clean… and come out to his friend. Perhaps he would’ve put it off longer under other circumstances, but they were soon to be leaving for college and were planning on living together there. It only seemed right to tell Dean before they actually moved in, give him full disclosure.

To Castiel’s utter surprise, the news hadn’t changed things at all. Dean had hugged him roughly, smacking his back with an open palm, and told him that it didn’t matter. They’d gone ahead with the move as planned, renting an overpriced crackerjack box of a house. Initially, Cas had thought he’d prefer to live in the dorms. They were nicer, after all, and didn’t require a massive deposit. But, Dean had been adamant. He’d hated the idea of the dorms, primarily because he’d be unable to bring girls over to spend the night. He’d also have to deal with noise restrictions and quiet hours, an on site RA who would police for alcohol and weed, and living without a full kitchen.

When they’d run the numbers and found that the monthly cost of renting a house wasn’t any more expensive than living in the dorms, it had given them the ammunition they’d needed to sway Cas’s father. He simply couldn’t argue the logic that in the long run, having a kitchen and being able to cook would save them money over having to buy a meal plan from the college. The deposit was another story, but as Castiel had pointed out, they’d get that back. Mr. Novak had laughed out loud at that one, but in the end, he’d given in and allowed the boys to sign a lease agreement.

Moving away from home was like embarking on an adventure with his friend, and college was everything Cas had hoped it would be. He was finally independent, away from his overbearing family. He joined an LGBT club and began dating. Dating guys. It was awesome. And being roommates with his lifelong best friend was the icing on the cake.

Dean was like a magnet that seemed to attract good times. Outgoing as he was, he made friends everywhere he went. Sexy as he was, the girls lined up to have their turn. And, with their house being so close to campus and in a neighborhood comprised primarily of student rentals, it quickly became known as a party house. Friends and acquaintances came and went at all hours, alcohol and weed were always on hand, and their cable subscription had all the channels. Even the dirty ones.

Of course, it didn’t take long to see that Dean’s college experience was going to be vastly different from Castiel’s. It quickly became an issue. Carving out study time was hard and, even if he’d promised himself he’d start his homework at a certain time, it was almost impossible to follow through when there was a party going on downstairs. And there always seemed to be a party going on downstairs.

Now, abandoning his homework in favor of a small break, Cas headed down. He bypassed the rowdy guys on the couch and the girls lingering nearby to head for the bathroom and dose himself with Tums. The gut rot from pizza and beer was killing him. He pissed while he was in there and then headed back to the living room where the action was.

Clearing away the empty pizza box and picking up a few empty cans, Cas looked around to see who all was here. Dean was still where Cas had left him hours ago, seated next to Benny as the two played a military style video game of some kind, with lots of guns and bombs. Cas wasn’t much of a gamer so they all kind of looked the same to him. A couple guys he didn’t know were taking up the rest of the couch, so Cas plunked down on the arm of the sofa next to Dean and watched for a bit.

Casting a sidelong glance, Dean asked, “You need a beer?”

“Nope. I’m still working on my O-Chem.”

“Sounds awesome. When’s it due?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Dude,” chuckled Dean, his attention fixed primarily on the television, “that’s like fifteen hours from now. You’ve got plenty of time. Have a beer with us.”

“It’s eight hours from now,” retorted Cas dryly. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Well fuck,” laughed Dean, “no wonder I gotta piss so bad.”

“Don’t you have a paper due tomorrow as well?”

“Do I?” he replied, pausing their game and getting up.

“You do. For your Lit class.”

“Oh yeah, the comparison thing. I haven’t read either of the books yet. I’ll probably just turn that in late.”

“Dean –

“Dude. It’s only a ten percent deduction for being late. So what if I get a ‘B’ instead of an ‘A’?”

“Or a ‘D’ instead of a ‘C’, right?” pressed Castiel pointedly as he followed his friend out of the room.

“Yeah, yeah,” laughed Dean over his shoulder, “or I can do a quick google search and throw something together without really reading the books.”

On the heels of that statement, Dean ducked into the bathroom. Though he left the door open as he undid his fly and pissed, Castiel waited out in the hall for him. Still talking to Cas as he did his business, Dean added, “Last time I did that, I wound up with a B minus. Not too shabby.”

The sound of Dean pissing was drowned out by the boisterous voices they’d left behind in the living room. When he’d finished using the facilities, Dean paused to lean into the fridge and grab another beer. Castiel, as usual, had to fight to keep his eyes from drifting to Dean’s ass. It was a nice ass, particularly when swathed in worn denim as it was now. And, try though he may, Cas never could keep himself from stealing a glance.

Turning back towards the living room, Dean cracked open his cold drink and thumped Cas’s shoulder as he passed by. “Tell you what,” he proposed, “lemme finish this game and then I’ll kick these guys out so we can both get some work done.”

Cas nodded amenably and then followed his friend back to the television where he settled into a broken but comfortable recliner in the corner. To everyone else, it probably looked as though he was just watching his friends play their game. But in reality, Cas only had eyes for Dean. It sucked, really, to be so completely in love with his friend. He’d spent most of high school in denial of it, and most of his freshman year coming to terms with it. These days, he was resigned. He watched as much as he could without seeming creepy, jerked off in the shower to images of his charismatic friend, and spent his easier classes daydreaming about the many different scenarios that might lead the two of them to a kiss one day.

It was almost one in the morning when the house was finally cleared. Dean plugged in his laptop and pulled it into his lap. “Betcha I finish mine before you finish yours,” he teased.

“Well, given the subject matter and our differing levels of commitment, that seems appropriate.”

“Let’s make it interesting,” grinned Dean. “Whoever finishes last has to clean up the kitchen.”

“Like you’ve ever cleaned the kitchen.”

“Beat me and I will.”

“I’d like to see that,” muttered Cas, heading for the stairs. Returning to his work wasn’t easy. He had to get back in the mindset and figure out how to pick up where he’d left off. The quiet made it easier though, and soon enough, Cas was on a roll. When he was finally finished, he stretched and looked at the time. Almost three. Damn.

His stomach was now empty and twisting, so he headed downstairs. When he passed the couch, he saw only a laptop, still plugged into the charger. Wondering if Dean had thrown in the towel and headed for bed, Cas rounded the corner and peeked into Dean’s room which he found empty.

From behind him, a loud voice cut the stillness and startled him. “Bout time, fucker, I’ve been done for almost an hour.”

“I’m sure that your comparison of two literary classics will be very insightful,” sighed Cas sarcastically, “after all, you put a whopping ninety minutes into it.”

“Anything worth doin’ is worth doin’ right,” grinned his roomie.

Cas shouldered past his friend with an indulgent smile and headed for the kitchen. Two steps from the fridge, Cas stopped dead in his tracks. “Y-You cleaned up?”

“Sure did,” Dean answered proudly, chest puffed out like a preening peacock.

“Thank you,” he breathed, taking in the clean dishes stacked in the drying rack and the spotless countertops.

“Well, you’ve been workin’ so hard lately,” said Dean, his face growing more serious, “it didn’t seem right to stick you with the mess again.”

Cas, suddenly aware of how warmly he was staring at his friend, gave a final nod and turned towards the fridge. Digging around, he managed to find some left over KFC. The biscuits were hard and stale, but the mashed potatoes heated up okay in the microwave. Grabbing a plastic spoon, Cas took his leftovers and headed to the couch. Dean settled beside him on it, beer in one hand and remote control in the other. They never really settled on anything to watch, just flipping channels and chatting as Cas polished off his snack and then tipped his head back in relief. Finally. He could rest.

Suddenly, trudging up the stairs to his room seemed like so much work. The couch was warm and comfy and when Dean kicked back, he leaned closer to Cas. It didn’t mean anything, Cas was certain of it. His friend was just getting comfortable. But somewhere deep down, a little ember of hope stirred. It was futile to imagine that Dean would ever want him. Straight men don’t just suddenly lose interest in sexy college co-eds and fall madly in love with their gay roomates, right? Right. But tingling with excitement just from the man’s presence, it was impossible to let logic win. So instead, he hunkered down next to Dean Winchester on their shitty couch and feigned relaxation while his imagination lit up with the possibility of more.

When Dean’s hand went lax, Cas gently leaned in and took the beer can from it. Depositing it on the coffee table, he tried to make himself get up and go to bed. He had class in less than 4 hours, but leaving was impossible. He’d rather sleep sitting up on the couch next to his friend than curl up in the comfort of his own bed alone. The clincher was when Dean’s heavy head tipped to the side and came to rest on Cas’s shoulder. Yep. That was it. There was no leaving now.

Cas carefully pulled his phone from his pocket and set an alarm. He’d just sleep here until either his alarm went off, or Dean woke up and stumbled off to bed. Letting his head fall back, Cas surrendered to exhaustion, but not before he took a surreptitious whiff of his friends hair. With the scent of all he desired filling his nostrils, Cas fell into a fitful sleep.

When he woke, Dean was slumped over into his lap. He was snoring loudly. Cas had a bitch of a neck ache and he was willing to bet that Dean would wake feeling the same. He didn’t get up right away, despite his alarm going off for a second time. Instead, Cas allowed himself a few minutes of simply gazing at Dean as he slept, curled over awkwardly. It took all his will power not to reach out and stroke Dean’s hair. He knew from experience that it was far softer than it looked and longed to touch it, run his fingers through it. But, for the sake of not freaking out his buddy and preserving their friendship, he held back.

He couldn’t see Dean’s face, only the back of his head. But he knew how angelic that face was when sleeping and it was probably for the best that he couldn’t be drawn in to stare at it now. Eventually, Cas did summon the will to wake his friend.

Dean didn’t seem flustered to find himself curled up on Cas’s lap, in fact, he even made a lewd joke about the wet spot that he’d drooled onto Castiel’s pants. Rising slowly and stretching, Dean then proceeded to edge out Cas for the first shower, eat the last of Castiel’s cereal along with the last of the milk, and even honk rudely from the street while waiting for Cas to join him in the car.

“C’mon,” he growled as Cas fumbled his way into the passenger seat with his bag, “I still gotta park after I drop you off. I’m gonna be late again.” The tires were squealing before Cas even had his door shut and the Led Zeppelin blaring from the speakers was way too loud for an early morning. Cas gritted his teeth as he arranged himself on the seat. This was life with Dean… challenging, frustrating, and somehow still completely wonderful.


	2. The Bro Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Destiella for editing this. It's much improved!

                                                             

 

That afternoon, Cas did as he usually did on Thursdays. Rather than ride home with his roommate, he went straight from his calculus class to the library. Upon pushing through the glass doors, he took a right and headed all the way to the back where the group study rooms were located.  The two hours he spent here weekly were the bane of his existence, but invaluable to him if he wanted to pass. Math classes had always been his weak spot and he needed these study sessions which were led by a mentor. As he pulled out his things and dropped his bag to the floor at his feet, Cas greeted those who were already here and tried to seem interested in their small talk as they waited for the rest of the group.

The biggest bright spot in this group was Charlie, a friend of his who happened be in his LGBT club. Her perpetual good mood and witty banter made this math purgatory far more enjoyable. When they’d finished, Cas gathered his things without missing a beat in their ongoing debate over whether or not Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins had a gay romance on the way to Mordor. The two had about half an hour to kill before the weekly meeting of their campus LGBT club, Queers and Allies, which was known as the QA club. The quaint little coffee shop adjacent to the library entrance was their usual stop between math and meeting. As they continued to discuss the Lord of the Rings, they waited in line for some caffeine. By the time they’d ordered, paid, and been served, it was time to get moving.

The QA meetings were always fairly social and Cas enjoyed visiting with his friends as he decompressed from the study session. Thursdays were the worst day of Castiel’s week, starting with O-chem and ending with a combined three hours of calculus between class and study session. He was glad to have it behind him for now, though he’d have to deal with the new assignments for each soon enough. Putting the work out of his mind, Cas relaxed into the gathering. When the meeting was finally brought to order from the cheerful chaos, the primary focus was split between an upcoming campus event and a petition effort regarding a biased policy in the handbook that had recently caused a member to be unfairly expelled. Charlie went up front for a few minutes to plead for more volunteers which were needed to canvas the campus for signatures. When the event was over, she stayed behind talking to the half-dozen interested parties.

Normally, he would have walked her back to her dorm on his way home, but tonight he was more exhausted than usual, having stayed up so late the past few nights. He begged off as the room cleared and walked home alone instead. Cutting through campus and coming out on the other side near The Jug, Cas slowed down as he passed it to peer in the windows and see if there were any familiar faces visible. The Jug was easily the most popular campus bar, but it wasn’t the crowd or the beer that kept Dean Winchester loyal. It was their bacon cheeseburgers and chili fries. Often Dean would swing by here after class on Thursdays to wait for Cas. Though, usually he’d send a text if he wanted to meet up and tonight Cas had received nothing.

Seeing no one interesting through the oversized tinted windows of the bar, he headed for home. When he turned onto his street a few minutes later, there was a car in the driveway that he didn’t recognize. Entering, he was greeted by an unusual sight. An empty living room. The place was quiet but messy. Dropping his backpack into the recliner as he passed it, Cas grabbed a pizza box and a few empty cans as he headed for the kitchen. It may have been recently cleaned, but already the sink was filling up with cups and bowls. Discarding the trash, he grabbed a soda from the fridge and headed back to the living room. He was simultaneously wondering whose car was in the drive and where Dean might be as he headed for the couch. It might be nice, he thought, to just kick back and watch some television… so rarely was this room available. Most hours of the day the couch was full of people playing video games.

However, as he passed by the door to Dean’s room, he saw that not only was it closed, but there was a t-shirt hanging from the doorknob. Pausing mid-step, Cas realized that the t-shirt hanging there was the same one his friend had been wearing when they’d parted company this morning. Then, as Cas stood putting two and two together, the sensual sound of a wanton moan carried softy through the door.

In an instant, Cas was on full alert. He stood still as a statue as he waited to hear if the sound would come again. When it did, he found himself simultaneously sickened and turned on in equal measure. Dean was in there… with a girl… having sex.

It wasn’t unusual, actually. Dean got more ass than a toilet seat in a public restroom. But for Cas to actually hear it wasn’t the norm. More commonly, Cas would just catch a glimpse of Dean through a crowd as he tugged a young lady to his car or to his room, depending on where they were. Cas would then be tasked with the monumental job of pretending to be part of what was going on around him rather than allowing the world to know that his mind continually flitted back to Dean and his conquest.

It was awful having to imagine Dean stripping down, tipping his head back and sighing as he was pleasured, breathing through his mouth as he grew more excited. It was awful, and it wasn’t. Cas could picture his friend’s rough hands, shucking down underwear, and... imagining that scenario did far more for his package than any porn he’d seen to date.

Of course, in Cas’s imagination, the underwear in question were his. Sadly, he’d been friends with Dean long enough to know exactly how his eyes lit up when he looked at something he desired. Pie. Tits. It didn’t matter. Those enigmatic eyes would zero in on what Dean wanted and a small smirk would appear the moment he knew he was going to get it. Oh what Cas would give to have Dean look at him like that… like he was apple fucking pie with a dollop of melting ice-cream on top.

The squeaky sound of aged bed springs creaking snapped Castiel’s attention back to Dean’s door and he wondered if that was the sound of his friend getting up from the bed. Suddenly fearful that Dean would come out and find him listening at the door, Cas turned towards the stairs, loathe to be caught, and bolted up to the second floor. He took the steps two at a time, practically throwing himself around the banister at the top. Out of sight now, he was able to linger there and listen. His breathing evened out when he realized that Dean’s door had never opened. No, the springs had just been creaking under the weight of two people who were likely doing the nasty.

Thinking of Dean getting off, even with someone else, sent a delightful curl spiraling through his stomach that set it spinning. He was powerless against his yearning for Dean and though he knew it wasn’t right, he unzipped right there in the little alcove at the top of the stairs and shoved his hand down his pants.

His heart was pounding loudly in his ears and he cursed the sound of it because it thwarted his ability to hear the delicious noises that were emanating from Dean’s room below. With his pulse racing, Cas held his breath and hoped to hear something… some small sound of pleasure escaping Dean’s lips as he pushed his dick into something soft and warm and wet.

Spitting into his hand, Cas tried to create a similar feeling for his own cock, simulate the wetness at least. Jerking it clumsily, he strained his ears to hear. Just when he was ready to give up and go finish in his room, his ringing ears picked up on a sound.

Yes, there it was again. Cas ached to know for sure if he was hearing his friend or his friend’s conquest and as he listened more and more intently, his hand slowing on his hungry cock. His jeans were slipping from thigh to knee, but that didn’t matter at all because at that moment, he heard Dean as plain as day. There was an “Oh,” and then an, “Oh yeah.”

Cas gulped, not having realized that spit was backing up in his mouth. “Oh yeah, Lis, like that,” Dean crooned, clearly not realizing that he may be overheard. Cas had no idea who Dean was with, but behind his eyelids he could picture the enraptured look that would fall over Dean’s face as he neared his orgasm. Then, Cas heard a female voice moaning. He tried to tune it out and focus on the squeak of bedsprings which was growing rhythmic.

“Yeah,” called Dean loudly, the sound of it easily reaching Cas at the top of the stairs.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

As he listened, Cas leaned forward and put his free hand to the wall, sagging against it as his end roared up on him. He sped up more now, just wanting to fucking finish. The muscles in his arm were protesting but he pushed on, jacked harder and faster, and then, finally, he came. Swaying on his feet, Cas had to open his eyes to keep his balance when he shot his load but even still, he could see Dean’s eyes clear as day in his mind’s eye as the pleasure washed over him.

A second after the jizz blew from his tip, Cas was flooded with remorse. He tugged his pants up hastily and trudged to his room, wiping his hand on his shirt as he balled it up and tossed it into the laundry basket in the corner. Stepping out of his pants, he threw them in as well and then grabbed a fresh pair of boxers from his top drawer.

His knees were weak from his release, but he simply could not rest until he’d cleaned up the mess in the hall. He’d just die if anyone ever saw it and guessed what it was. So, on shaky legs, Cas grabbed a dirty towel from his hamper and headed back to the site of his shame. He had to turn the light on to see. The towel in hand was still damp from his most recent shower and it smelled funky from being mixed in with other dirty clothes.

Cas bent down, cleaning his spend off of the wall and the baseboard. When he’d finished, he collapsed into his bed. All he could think of was how much he wished that he could fall in love with somebody – literally anybody. More than anything, he just wanted someone to help him forget about these unrequited feelings for his best friend. They complicated his life far more than he could stand. It was one thing to develop a crush on a straight guy. Every gay guy did that at one point, or so he’d been told. But to have to live with his crush? This was absolute torture. It would be so much easier if he could just feel wholesome, friendly feelings for Dean.

Cas hadn’t intended to fall asleep, but he did. It was hours later when his bladder woke him. The house was silent around him. Before descending the steps to use the bathroom, Cas took a quick detour to his window and checked the driveway to see if the mystery car was gone. It was. Relieved that whoever had rocked Dean’s world tonight had not been granted permission to stay over, Cas headed downstairs to use the bathroom. On the way back up he grabbed a package of off-brand cookies from the cupboard and the milk jug from the fridge, which was almost empty anyway.

He ate his snack in bed, crumbs be damned, and then set an alarm for the morning. The worst day of the week was behind him now and tomorrow he only had one class. His easiest. And, he didn’t have to wake up until almost ten.

When morning rolled around, Cas felt marginally better. He was well rested and had forgiven himself for the spank session. After all, he was only human.

Dean’s schedule on Fridays started earlier than Cas’s so he generally had the house to himself for a bit and then walked to class. Today he took his time and made some eggs for breakfast, enjoying that the kitchen was still in decent shape. After eating, he collected his things and headed to school. The campus was slow today, normal for a Friday, and Cas didn’t have to wait long for the extravagant cup of coffee he bought himself. He carried it to class with him, taking a seat in the lab. When his lab partner flopped down next to him, he looked over and greeted her politely.

“Hello Tessa, how was the show last night?”

“The show was good,” she smiled, clearly flattered that he even remembered what her plans had been, “but the date was a mistake.”

Watching her expression go from warm to cool made him chuckle. “You took Cole, right?”

“Yep. Big mistake. Huge.”

“How so?”

“He’s a colossal douchebag. I would’ve had more fun if I’d just brought along a rock and sat it on the seat next to me. How was your night?”

“Well, I didn’t have any plans,” he hedged, “just a quiet night at home.”

“Not many of those, I bet.”

He gave her a nod, but their conversation was over now. A hush had fallen over the room as their professor walked in and Cas pulled out his notes on the lab they were about to do. He and Tessa managed quite well, and afterward he took her to lunch under the premise of cheering her up. They went to The Jug and as they finished eating, Cas received a text from Dean.

“That’s my roommate,” said Cas to Tessa, “he wants to know if it’s too early to start drinking.”

“Never,” she smiled, “especially if he’s buying the first round.”

Once Dean joined them, others followed, their small table soon pushed together with several others. Groups of friends and acquaintances came and went over the next few hours, shuffling chairs around as they ate, drank, and laughed the afternoon away. When the sun was setting, Cas found himself being pulled from the bar by Dean. They hit the men’s room as they were leaving, but Cas still managed to have to piss again before they were home.

“Hang it out the window,” Dean joked.

“It’s three blocks, Dean. I’m sure I can wait.”

“I’m bettin’ you can’t,” joked Dean, reaching across the bench seat to pinch at Cas’s side. “C’mon,” he goaded as his pinches worked their way down Cas’s thigh and neared his knee cap. The knee cap was Castiel’s ticklish spot. Only two people in the world knew that… his older brother Gabriel and Dean Fucking Winchester.

The evil bastard clearly knew he had the better of Cas because he pulled his foot off the gas and slowed the car to a crawl. Leaning over, Dean clamped his index finger and thumb down on the sensitive tissue around the top of Cas’s knee. Wriggling his fingers, Dean half pinched and half tickled and the sensation had Cas doubling over with laughter as he kicked in vein, unable to shake Dean off.

“Get off,” he bleated feebly, batting furiously at Dean’s hand.

“I will get off,” Dean laughed crassly, “about a half hour after I get home.”

“Well,” sighed Cas, sitting back up now that Dean had relented, “considering how many people will be over at that time, it should prove to be quite the show.”

Surprisingly, when they arrived at the house, there was no one there. Normally, on a Friday night, people came to visit. If Dean and Cas were gone, they’d just make themselves at home knowing a party was imminent. Cas bounded across the living room and through the kitchen to the bathroom, barely making it. As he relieved himself, Dean sauntered up and leaned against the doorway.

“What happens if I grab that knee now, huh? You piss all over yourself?”

“I piss on you,” retorted Cas. “Where the fuck is everyone? It is Friday, right?”

“It is,” agreed Dean, pulling out his phone and thumbing through it as Cas flushed and washed his hands. “And it looks like we’re meant to be over at Benny’s place,” chuckled Dean. “Sorry. I wasn’t watchin’ my phone. He texted us, like, hours ago.”

“Good one.”

“Dude. You didn’t see it either,” grinned Dean, turning to follow Cas as he stepped out of the bathroom.

Patting his pockets in search of his phone, Cas said, “I don’t have my… oh. It must be in my bag. As he tried to walk a straight line across the living room, Castiel had to admit that he was far drunker than he’d initially thought. “Where’s my bag?” he asked, looking back towards Dean.

“Um, how the fuck would I know?”

“I had it with me at the bar. It’s probably in the car.”

Fumbling with the handle on the entry door, Cas tried to step outside. He chuckled when he had to try a second time and laughed too loud when he had to try a third.

“Jesus H Christ,” bellowed Dean, crossing the room to help him. Their hands tangled for a second before Dean managed to knock Cas’s out of the way. As he stepped back and let Dean open the door, Cas was stunned by how poor his coordination was. Stepping to the doorway he found himself watching Dean as he jogged back out to the car. Cas took a step, then another, and by the time he’d made it out onto the porch, Dean was already jogging back to him. It looked like Dean was weaving a bit too, but it was hard to tell. Admittedly, it could be Cas’s altered perception.

“It’s not there,” said Dean, pushing past Castiel and into the house.

“Can you take me to get it?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting’ my keys.”

It was impossible not to laugh as Cas watched Dean bend to pick up his car keys from the coffee table and drop them to the carpet. Twice.

“Dude,” he laughed as he knelt to retrieve them, “I prolly shoulda let you drive home, I’m fucked up.”

“Me drive?” snorted Cas. “I’m a lousy driver on my best day. And right now, I’m hammered.”

“Yeah, you are aren’tcha?”

“A bit. It would seem.”

“Call the bar and tell ‘em you left yer bag. They’ll throw it behind the counter for ya.”

“My phone,” he said acerbically. “Is in. My bag.”

“Oh yeah,” grinned Dean, flopping onto the couch. Cas stood watching as Dean called the bar for him, eventually flopping down beside him.

Dean’s words were starting to slur. Cas waited patiently and when Dean hung up he announced, “They’ve got yer bag. We can git it in the mornin’.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, rolling to his side and struggling to get on his feet again.

“Where the fuck are you goin’?”

“Need to pee.”

“Ya jus did.”

“Fuck off Dean,” growled Cas, headed for the bathroom.

“Git me a beer!” yelled Dean from the couch.

When he reached the toilet, Cas clumsily pulled himself out of his pants and pissed. He was definitely drunk. He felt sweaty and it wasn’t easy to aim his stream into the bowl. In fact, the urge to sit down and piss was overwhelming. When he’d finished, he fumbled through washing his hands and headed back to the living room to plop down on the couch again.

“Where’s my beer?”

“Beer?”

“I said to git me a beer,” complained Dean, “I didn’t wanna get up.”

“Well guess what,” snarked Cas, “I don’t want to get up either. Get it yourself.”

“No need. You’ll piss again in about two fuckin’ minutes and you can git it for me then.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” laughed Cas, leaning forward to pick up the remote from the coffee table.

“Gimme that,” barked Dean gruffly, a lopsided grin on his face. “You’ll have us watchin’ the goddam Discovery Channel.”

“I like the Discovery Channel.”

“Look Cas, we both know you’re the smart one. Do ya have to rub it in?”

“I’m not –

“No, Cas. We’re not watchin’ another damn documentary on Hitler’s Germany or the pollination practices of fuckin’ bees. If we’re stuck here for a bit, we’re watchin’ somethin’ worthy of a Friday night.”

Cas chuckled, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “I can’t wait to see what riveting program you’ll pick out.”

Dean was flipping channels when Cas’s mind caught up with what Dean had said. “Wait. You said we’re stuck here for a bit. What’s going to happen in a bit?”

“Benny’s comin’ to get us.”

“I’d rather you drive drunk than trust Benny’s screaming metal death trap to get us there.”

Chuckling, Dean turned his attention to his phone when a text alert came in and didn’t even notice it when Cas leaned over and slid the remote right out of his hand. As Dean focused on typing, Cas began scanning for something fun to watch. Not wanting Dean to make fun of him, he went straight past three or four things that looked interesting and came to rest on a rerun of Doctor Sexy.

“Fuck,” fumed Dean from beside him.

“What? Don’t even pretend you don’t watch this show sometimes.”

“Yeah. I mean, no,” stammered Dean, clutching his phone in his hand. “I don’t giva fuck what we’re watchin’. Benny says he can’t come git us.”

“Why?”

“Says his truck’s buried behind all the people parked on his lawn. Dollars to donuts he jus don’t wanna leave his party.”

“Benny wouldn’t lie.”

“Whatever. Doctor Sexy it is. Now, where’d we land on that beer.”

“What beer?”

“The beer you’re gonna go git for me.”

“I swear,” mumbled Cas as he hoisted himself up from the couch, “sometimes you’re a lot of fucking work, Dean Winchester.”

“You know you love it,” teased Dean. Thank fuck the guy didn’t know how right he really was.

Cas grabbed Dean’s beer and got a water for himself. When he got back to the couch, Dean had kicked off his shoes and thrown his feet up on it. He was now taking up all the space.

“Here,” said Cas, handing him the cold can, “now move your ass.”

Dean shot Cas a winning smile, one that was downright flirtatious, and wriggled his hips around.

“Not what I meant,” sighed Cas. Then, bending down, he picked up Dean’s legs and shoved them out of his way. Before he’d even sat down all the way, those feet were being shoved in his face.

“Get your smelly feet out of my face,” laughed Cas, shoving at his friend’s legs.

“Get your ass off my couch,” retorted Dean.

“No way, it’s _our_ couch,” insisted Cas, still playing defense. “You carried half and I carried half.”

“Oh yeah,” admitted Dean. “I forgot we curb surfed this baby. She’s holdin’ up, ain’t she?”

“I suppose.”

As Cas sighed and settled into the couch, Dean dropped his legs from their assault and brought them to rest in Castiel’s lap. There was a brief moment where Cas felt wrong… like he should make some excuse and move. Maybe it was because he’d jerked off thinking about Dean last night… for the thousandth time. Or maybe he was just perceiving things differently because he wanted their closeness to mean something that it didn’t. Glancing over at Dean, he saw that his friend was relaxed and paying him no attention, his eyes already glazing over as he watched Doctor Sexy.

Making an effort to follow suit, Cas turned to the television and tried to pay attention. At this moment, Dr. Sexy was sleeping in the on-call room. There was a knock at the door and he sat up, only to see that Dr. Piccolo had entered. She didn’t turn on the lights, though, she simply crawled into the little bunk bed with him. Cas watched a bit more intently as the on screen couple quickly advanced from soft kisses to hot and urgent ones.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“You horny?”

“W-what?”

“Y’heard me.”

“Dean,” said Cas flatly, “I’m a twenty year old gay man. I’m always horny.”

He’d been trying to make a joke, but Dean didn’t laugh. Instead, Dean lifted one leg and pushed on Cas’s thigh with his socked foot. “I’m horny,” stated Dean flatly.

“So?” chuckled Cas, “Join the club.”

“Let’s do somethin’ about it,” replied Dean without a trace of humor.

Cas wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He looked over at his friend and saw that the guy’s eyes were resting heavily on him. Dean’s foot shoved at him again. “C’mon, Cas,” he said shamelessly, “You like dick. I have a dick. Whaddaya say?”

“I say,” answered Cas, turning back to the television and praying for strength, “that you’re drunk.”

“You’ve done worse than me, Cas. I’ve seen you bring home worse.”

“Like who?”

“Alfie.”

“What the hell was wrong with Alfie?”

“His name, for starters. How do you scream out ‘Alfie’ during sex?”

“I don’t scream out anything during sex.”

“I’d blame Alfie for that.”

“Dean.” Laughed Cas in spite of himself, “You don’t want to play this game with me.”

“What game?”

“The game of who brings home the least qualified fucks.”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong on that one,” agreed Dean with a bob of his head. “So maybe let’s skip the game and just get off. You can’t tell me you don’t want to.”

“You’ll feel differently in the morning,” said Cas firmly. “You’re drunk Dean.”

“M’not _that_ drunk.”

“You’re drunk enough to hit on a dude.”

“I ain’t hittin’ on you,” corrected Dean, “I’m jus sayin’ that we could, ya know, help each other out. It don’t gotta be a big deal.”

Inside, Cas was paralyzed. Suddenly his buzzing head was an imposition – he needed to think clearly. What the fuck was happening? Did his best friend really just proposition him for sex?

More importantly, if he did, why was Cas still sitting on the opposite end of the couch?

Oh yeah, because taking Dean up on his offer could easily be the first domino in a long fucking line of them that ended with their friendship imploding.

“Yer thinkin’ too hard, Cas. I can see smoke comin’ outta your ears. Either do it or don’t, but for Christsake don’t sit there and fuckin’ think about it.”

Knowing he should think this through, but desperately not wanting to, Cas turned to Dean and said, “What do you have in mind?”

“Well, shit Cas, you could blow me. That’d be frickin’ awesome. But,” added Dean with a smirk, “I’m pretty sure this party would be over when it was my turn to do you. So maybe we should just rub one out.”

“You make it sound so sexy,” he bit out, suddenly incensed at the lack of effort on Dean’s part. If the man was going to try and get some, take advantage of his friendship with a gay guy, he could at least put some effort into the pick-up lines.

“It’d be hot and you know it. You want it, I can tell.”

“What do you mean? How can you can tell?”

“I know you Cas. If you really didn’t wanna do it, you woulda jus left by now. You woulda gone to bed or some shit and threw it in my face in the mornin’. But you’re still here. With your hand on my leg.”

Looking down, Cas saw that Dean was right. When had he laid his hand across Dean’s shin? Cursing aloud as he retracted his hand, Cas suddenly realized how hot his face was. Embarrassed and off-kilter, his eyes darted around the room searching for something to rest his eyes on. Dean was right. He wanted this. So badly. And, yeah, if he really had no interest in Dean sexually, he would have laughed this off and gone to bed. Then he would’ve gotten up the next morning and razzed his friend about it. But here he was, sitting on the couch with his mind racing in circles and dick half hard between his legs and DAMMIT when had his palm come to rest on Dean’s leg again?

“Cas?”

“Okay, Dean. I’m in.”

“I knew it,” grinned Dean, pulling his legs out of Cas’s lap and sitting up.

“Don’t gloat,” warned Cas. “That’s a deal-breaker.”

“Got it,” replied Dean, scuttling closer on the couch.

“And turn off the lamp,” added Cas.

“Seriously?”

“Do you want to do this or not?”

“Roger that,” chuckled Dean, reaching to flick off the only light that wasn’t coming from the television.

Darkness fell over the room like a curtain and Cas had to work hard to keep his breathing even in the pale blue light of the TV. He never, ever wanted Dean to guess how much he wanted this… what it would mean to him.

Over the mundane sounds of a commercial for Downy fabric softener, Dean pushed himself to the middle of the couch, leaning back with his shoulder touching Cas’s shoulder. Yep. This was better. They weren’t looking at each other.

The gritty sound of Dean’s zipper coming down tore through the uncomfortable silence and made everything real.

 _This is actually going to happen_ , thought Cas. _Ho-ly shit. This is happening_.

Keeping his eyes on the TV, Cas held his breath and unzipped himself too. Then he just sat there, uncertain what to do next.

“No wonder you stayed a virgin so long,” husked Dean, elbowing Cas conspiratorially, “you need an engraved invitation?”

“I don’t really know what to do, Dean. This isn’t exactly in the playbook. I mean, if I was with another gay man, things would be different. But this is… whatever this is… we’re not even kissing. I mean, I know you don’t want to and that’s fine, but I just don’t know what to do here - and honestly, I think you could be nicer about it.”

“Sorry,” shrugged Dean. “But Cas, man, you're the gay one. If you don't know how to get us started, then I sure as shit ain't got a clue. So I guess we’re just gonna have to take our junk out and see what happens, huh?”

With a sigh, Cas let his head fall back on the cushion behind him. None of this was anything like the fantasies he’d entertained about Dean. But, beggars can’t be choosers, right? With that thought in mind, Cas slowly reached his hand down and slid it into his pants.

“That’s a start,” chuckled Dean beside him.

Once more, irritation flooded Castiel. “You’re not helping.”

“Got it,” nodded Dean. And that was the last time he spoke.

Cas was timid at first, his hand still buried in his unzipped jeans. He slowly curled his fingers around his shaft and gradually slid them upward. Though he didn’t turn his head to look, Cas could see Dean in his peripheral vision doing the same. It felt strange to touch himself in front of his friend, but the fact that Dean was doing the exact same thing took some of the stigma out of it. Before long, Castiel found himself relaxing back into the couch. He was stroking languidly now, eyes staring at the TV but seeing nothing.

Despite his body having grown more comfortable next to Dean, Cas’s mind was still spinning with questions and doubts. Then, next to him, Dean exhaled a deep breath and skootched down, spreading his legs a bit and actually pulling his cock out into the room. When that happened, all thinking just stopped. With his heart hammering in his ribcage and his dick thick in his grip, Cas chanced a glance over at Dean’s lap.

Fuck that was a beautiful cock. It was all he could do to tear his eyes away from it. As he tried to look away, he felt Dean’s head turning towards him. It was just a small motion, but it was a distinct movement. Without looking directly at Cas or speaking to him, Dean used a minute nod of his head to indicate that he’d seen Cas looking and that it was forgivable.

It was confirmation that a peek had been okay, and likely an encouragement to do more if he wanted. Not ready to put himself out there anymore than he already had, Cas returned his eyes to the television and tried to keep his hand moving at the same speed that Dean’s was. But, when Dean switched hands, the movement jostled Cas’s arm and served as a reminder that they were actually touching and the knowledge sent a quiver of excitement tickling through Castiel’s body that manifested as a shiver.

Beside him, Dean made a soft sound in the base of his throat. It almost sounded like a suppressed chuckle, but before the sound cut off, it morphed into a bit of a moan. Cas had heard that moan before and he knew it to be genuine. Dean was enjoying this. That knowledge sent a wave of euphoria spreading over Castiel from head to toe and he honestly thought he’d like to just go ahead and suck Dean off, even if there was to be no reciprocation. A little voice in the back of his head encouraged him to go for it.

 _Do it,_ said the voice, _you’ll do it so good that he’ll be done with girls. You’ll show him what it could be like and he’ll keep coming back for more._

Oblivious to Castiel’s inner monologue, Dean seemed to be content with their mutual masturbation. But then, there was an unmistakable invitation. Dean’s knee bumped into Castiel’s knee, a purposeful movement. It was the equivalent of being tapped on the shoulder and Cas glanced over at Dean in response. Those green eyes were lusty and soft and unfocused, but freckled cheeks blushed a bit as Dean tipped his head down indicating his cock.

Cas looked over at it and watched Dean use his fist to tip it in Cas’s direction. It was another invitation. Cas’s heart jumped right up into his throat and his hand immediately abandoned his own dick for the chance to take Dean’s into its grip. Holding his breath to try and keep the excitement under control, Cas leaned over and put a second hand into the mix, pushing Dean’s aside and setting to work artfully, establishing a solid rhythm and then adding in a little twist of his wrist on every third or fourth pull. With his hands on flesh, it seemed silly to continue trying to avert his eyes so he didn’t. He let himself watch and felt himself grow desperate. He’d never get out of this without tasting. It was pointless to keep trying.

Dean had said he wanted it… if Cas was okay with the act not being reciprocated. And now, in the heat of the moment, Cas couldn’t give a flying fuck about reciprocation. Merely considering giving Dean head was sending Cas’s body into overdrive. His mouth filled with spit and no matter how much he swallowed, more just took its place. He was wet for Dean in the mouth and at his tip, the leakage on his crown cold where it was exposed to the room. The cooling pre-cum was a noticeable contrast to the heat pulsing through his groin.

“Mmm,” groaned Cas when he found himself finally sinking down on that fat cock. The smell that clung between Dean’s legs and the moist air down there sent a zing of heightened arousal through Cas and he returned one of his hands to his own dick. Stroking himself and sucking on Dean, Cas gave himself over completely to the experience. He no longer cared about yesterday or tomorrow, guilt or shame, fear or wanting. All he did was give and take pleasure.

Castiel sucked Dean’s dick like it was the last dick that he’d ever get to taste and soon he was moaning on that cock with embarrassing intensity. On some level, he knew he shouldn’t be ashamed because it was so obvious that Dean was enjoying it. His body was tensing in time with Castiel’s ministrations and one of his hands was cupped firmly around the back of Cas’s neck while the other carded through his hair encouragingly.

Turning, Cas pushed a knee into the couch for leverage so he could rise up over Dean’s lap and have more room to work. With one hand bracing his weight on the sofa, Cas moved his other to the waist of Dean’s jeans which he feverishly shoved down lower. Dean assisted too, shifting his weight back and forth to make stripping him easier.

Cas immediately snaked his hand between Dean’s legs so he could fondle his balls. As he rolled their weight in his palm, Dean pushed his legs apart more, giving himself over to the sensation. Cas was high on the scent of the man, the dirty things he was doing, and the surprising willingness of Dean to keep going further and further.

Cas took Dean’s eagerness as an opportunity to slide a finger back and run it along the man’s taint, brushing it back and forth and then occasionally applying pressure. Each time he’d repeat the action, Dean’s breath would hitch and his leg would twitch. Cas smiled over the heavy flesh in his mouth, feeling quite satisfied that he was rocking Dean’s world. He was proud too, because no matter how ridiculous it was, Cas couldn’t help but think of this as a chance to show Dean how much better it could be with a man… someone who had a dick of his own and really knew what to do with one.

“Cas,” whispered Dean, breaking his silence for the first time since he’d been shushed.

He was close, that was plain to see. His hips were rocking in time with Castiel’s bobbing head and he was moaning a lot, breaths quick and short, practically panting. Dean’s fingers were clenching at Cas’s hair, his neck, his shoulder.

“Cas,” Dean whispered again, more insistently this time. “C-Cas, m’gonna come.”

Grateful that Dean had the manners to alert him but perfectly happy to ignore the warning, Cas let his friend pulse ribbons of cum over his tongue, onto the roof of his mouth, down the back of his throat. The salty, viscous liquid coated everything as he tried to swallow it all. But even after he’d pulled off, a thick film remained on his teeth and the insides of cheeks. Even though it tasted awful, smelled awful, and had an unpleasant composition, Castiel enjoyed it because it was Dean’s and because he’d been wanting it for so fucking long.

Once he’d started pulling away, Cas wished he could start all over again; he just didn’t want this to end. But it had. It was over. Dean was quick to put himself away and Cas copied the movement, trying to stuff himself back into his pants while still hard. Fear was taking over and Cas began to worry that once he’d come, Dean would no longer have any tolerance for seeing another penis out.

“You done?” Dean asked him breathlessly.

“I, um, I’ll just go finish in my room.”

“No way,” growled Dean. “I’m not _that_ big of an asshole. Finish here.”

Letting himself slip back out of his pants, Cas gripped himself tight and began working himself over at an ambitious pace, just wanting to be done as quick as possible and not annoy Dean with taking too long.

From beside him, Dean asked, “What can I do besides suck it?”

Cas tried to take the question in the spirit with which it was intended, despite it coming off a bit hurtful. He tried to answer but could think of no response.

“I wanna help,” said Dean pitifully. As he said the words, he rested his hand on Cas’s leg. Surprisingly, even that small touch helped. Dean must have noticed it too, because a moment later his other hand pressed to Cas’s chest. The warm palm of a heavy hand felt good, even through Cas’s shirt and when Dean started rubbing, the occasional brush over a nipple sent skitters of pleasure through him. He came quickly after that, gasping his release into his own hand and then falling back into the couch for a moment.

Once he’d collected himself, Cas headed for the bathroom without looking back at Dean. He was afraid to let his friend see his face, certain that his feelings would be impossible to hide.


	3. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Destiella for staying up late to edit this chapter, you're awesome!

                                            

 

In the bathroom, Cas took his time cleaning up so he could try to get himself together. As he looked himself over in the mirror, his mind supplied one reason after another why he shouldn’t feel ashamed. He may have participated in Dean’s little ‘no homo’ hook-up of convenience, but seriously, what guy his age would turn down sex when it was so freely offered? None. He’s in college… if there’s a socially acceptable time-window for fucking around and sexual experimentation, this is it. Everyone experiments in college, right? Besides, the whole thing had been Dean’s idea. He’d just played along. Should he have been a prude and said, ‘No thanks’? Of course not.

And, hey, he’d enjoyed himself. A lot. There was no logical reason for feeling shitty about it. Or was there? The sound of voices pulled Cas from his thoughts. Through the bathroom door, he could hear a conversation and it was not the canned sound of television dialog. No, someone was here.

Curious who was speaking to Dean in the living room, Cas gave himself a final look to be sure he was presentable and then exited. As he walked through the kitchen he could already tell that the newcomer was female. Her nervous laughter floated through the air and rubbed Castiel the wrong way before he even got a look at her. Dean’s face was the first he saw when stepping into the room and his expression showed discomfort, though he was working to hide it.

The visitor was a brunette with dark eyes and tanned skin. She was wearing jeans and a pink top, and as she swayed back and forth in place, she was spinning her car keys on one finger. Dean met Cas’s eye with false confidence and said, “Heya Cas, this is Lisa. She was at Benny’s and heard we needed a ride so she came to get us. You up for headin’ that way?”

No. He wasn’t. The last thing he wanted to do right now was get in a car with one of Dean’s many admirers and head over to a party where there would be a dozen more just like her, all buzzing around Dean like bumble bees.

“I don’t think so,” he answered, ducking his head. “I’ve had too much to drink and I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll just call it a night.”

“You gonna be okay?” inquired Dean, edging a bit closer. Looking up, Cas could see thinly veiled concern etched on Dean’s face. If they’d been alone, Dean might’ve behaved a bit differently, been more open with him. But he was posturing for this girl. For Lisa. His shoulders were stiff and his chin was raised.

“Yes, Dean, I’m sure this will pass,” he answered, hoping that Dean would pick up on the double meaning of his words.

“Well, alright then,” Dean said on a heavy exhale. “We’ll get outta your way so you can grab some shut-eye.” With that said, Dean clapped his hand to Cas’s shoulder in what seemed to be a gesture of solidarity before turning away. To the girl in pink, Dean said, “You ready Lis?”

Hearing that name, Castiel’s heart dropped into his stomach. Lis. He’d heard Dean say that name before… last night, in fact. He’d been perched at the landing upstairs, sick with jealousy and yet still overcome with lust, enticed by the sound of Dean’s sensual moaning. As he’d stood there listening, he’d heard his friend call out, “Oh yeah, Lis, just like that.”

This was her. This was Lis. Short for Lisa, obviously. Deep in Cas’s gut, a flare of jealousy ignited and burned hot as he watched his friend exit with the girl he’d bedded the night before, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back as he ushered her out the door.

From the porch, Dean paused to look back at Cas and put his hand up in a goodbye gesture. “See ya buddy,” he said as he stepped out into the night.

“See you,” Cas responded hollowly, probably too soft to be heard anyway. Then, like an injured dog, Castiel crawled away to lick his wounds.

Over the years, he’d gotten used to seeing Dean ‘score’ when they went to parties and bars. In fact, it was sometimes entertaining to watch the girls as they competed for Dean’s attention. And when his friend inevitably picked one out for himself, the way a child chooses a lollipop, Dean’s celebratory antics as he pulled the lucky lady away to privacy could inspire fits of laughter. But behind the jokes and the innuendo, Cas was always left feeling slighted when he watched Dean go off with someone else. Because of that, opting out of the party tonight had been smart. Even in the best of circumstances, watching his friend leave to fuck someone else was unpleasant. But right now, with the taste of Dean Winchester still fresh on his tongue? Witnessing something like that would be a heavy blow.

Entering his room, Cas yanked off his shirt and tossed it aside. He kicked out of his jeans and crawled between the sheets. Laying awake for quite some time, he rehashed everything over and over. In regards to his tryst with Dean, it was impossible to be sorry. He was glad he’d done it. If he couldn’t have Dean the way he wanted him, at least he’d had a little taste. He now knew what it felt like to hold the man’s cock in his hands, to be allowed to touch and taste… to have Dean panting hot breath over him and feel his fingers twist into Castiel’s hair in a moment of passion. No. He’d never be sorry for having seized the opportunity to experience those things. And in the future, he could recall the memories of their romp any time he wanted to – what a gift!

Also, in hindsight, he realized that as jealous of Lisa as he’d been, she didn’t have anything that he didn’t also have. So what if Dean had moaned her name last night? Dean had moaned Cas’s name _tonight_. The longer he thought about things, the better he felt.

Eventually sleep crept up on him and pulled him under. When he woke in the morning, he felt refreshed. He took a nice long shower and made himself some breakfast. Then, taking advantage of the quiet house, Cas headed back upstairs and sat down at his desk to study. It was mid-afternoon when the sound of the front door signaled Dean’s return.

He was long overdue for a break anyway, so Cas got up and headed downstairs. Halfway down the steps the sound of voices alerted him to the presence of others and before he’d reached the bottom, the television had been turned on.

When Cas emerged from the stairwell, he was greeted by Dean, Benny, and a few of their other friends. Most of them were crowding around the gaming console as they bickered playfully about which game to put in.

“You hungry?” asked Dean, who was suddenly standing at his side.

“I could eat,” he shrugged.

“Brought ya some breakfast,” smiled Dean, pushing a Styrofoam container towards him. “Benny took us all to IHOP for helping him clean up this mornin’ and I picked this up for ya while we were there.”

“What is it?”

“Pancakes,” Dean informed him proudly, “with bacon AND sausage.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” deflected Dean, never having been one to easily accept thanks or praise. He moved away from Cas then, heading for the couch where he shoved his way between Benny and Ron and snatched up a game controller.

Smiling warmly to himself, Cas headed to the kitchen so he could microwave his food. He hadn’t had any lunch yet, too immersed in his studies to notice the time, and as he waited for the food to reheat, he dug around in the fridge for something to drink.

When his meal  was ready, Cas carried it to the rickety old table that sat in their tiny dinette space. There, hanging over the back of a chair was his backpack. Dean must’ve had his friends stop at the bar on the way here to pick it up. He dug his phone out of the pouch and settled at the table. Cradling it in his palm, Cas used the last 2% of his battery to check his email and texts while he dug into his food.

After eating, Cas joined his friends in the living room. Since he was completely caught up on his studies, he was able to enjoy a fun evening without the guilt that typically accompanies procrastination.

The weekend went by too fast, as usual. On Sunday night, Cas found himself helping Dean cram for a test in his Marketing Class. Neither of them had spoken about what had happened between them. Hell, they probably never would. But there was no residual awkwardness and things seemed to be back to normal.

Weeks passed, the warm days of early autumn giving way to the shorter and colder days of late October. Halloween decorations were everywhere and flyers for haunted houses and Halloween parties littered the campus bulletin boards. Cas was dodging calls from his folks who were likely wondering if he’d be home for Thanksgiving.

Dean’s time with Lisa had been short, and whether it was intentional on Dean’s part or not, Cas had been spared any further one-on-one interactions with her. In fact, Dean rarely even called her by name anymore, choosing to refer to her instead as ‘Gumby Girl’.

She was in the past now, having been replaced with a stunning blonde sorority girl named Lydia. She was a Kappa Kappa Gamma girl and had managed to talk Dean out of the huge house party he’d been planning to throw on Halloween. Instead, she had cajoled him into helping with a fundraising event that her sorority house was putting on. It was a haunted house for little kids complete with face painting and cupcakes, the proceeds of which would benefit a local library program. It all sounded very civically responsible, but everyone knew there would likely be a raging party after the event was over.

Their whole group of friends had hedged bets on how long Dean and Lydia would last once he’d had a taste of the Greek campus life. Cas didn’t say much, but he did quietly lay down a fifty dollar bill in favor of Dean and Lydia being done by Thanksgiving.

Halloween night was spent with a guy named Mick that Cas had met at QA. They doubled with Charlie and her girlfriend Dorothy, going to the best haunted house in town. It was expensive and the line was ridiculously long, but the experience wound up being well worth it. It was gory and intense and scared the absolute shit out of all of them.

Afterwards, riding an adrenaline high, the four headed over to the local gay bar which was hosting a costume party and drag queen show. Throughout the evening they bumped into lots of other friends from school and the QA club as they drank and danced and enjoyed the show.

It was during last call that Mick leaned back against the bar and smoothly propositioned Cas. Though Cas’s heart still belonged to Dean, Mick was proving to be a pleasing distraction and he found himself feeling buoyant as he leaned in and said yes.

Since Mick lived in the dorms, they opted to head back to Cas’s place. With Dean gone to Lydia’s event, and all plans of a party scrapped, the house was dark and quiet. Kissing started as soon as they got in the door and Cas didn’t bother turning on any lights. Jackets were hastily dropped onto chairs as the two stumbled across the living room, gracelessly fumbling down together on the sofa. Kissing soon progressed to making out and some pretty heavy petting.

When the lights flicked on overhead, they were blinding. Squinting, Cas yanked his hand out from under Mick’s shirt so he could shield his eyes. Then, as his eyes began to adjust to the brightness, he was able to make out Dean’s form in the doorway. He was clumsily trying to toe off his shoes; obviously wasted. When Dean looked up, he stared flagrantly at Cas and his date, noticeably surprised to find them tangled together on the couch.

“Well, fuck,” he crowed, “I didn’t realize we had company.”

Quickly pulling his untucked shirt over his undone zipper and semi, Cas sat up straight and put both feet on the floor. He shot his date an apologetic expression and then looked back up at Dean to arbitrarily say, “Dean, this is Mick. Mick, Dean.”

Dean swayed cartoonishly as he walked in, his usual swagger exaggerated and off-kilter. “I’d shake yer hand,” snarked Dean to Mick, “but I know where it’s been.”

Dean was rough around the edges on his best days, lacking in manners as a general rule. But to be around Dean when he was wasted was to experience an overdose of his less charming qualities. Being the guy’s roommate for so long had given Cas plenty of experience in dealing with the ‘wasted’ version of his friend. He knew beyond a doubt that if he was going to have any more fun with Mick tonight, he needed to get away from Dean. They should either leave and find somewhere else to go, or head up to his room and shut the door.

Choosing the latter, he thought, would likely lead to sex with Mick tonight. He’d been having fun so far, and a bit more action was quite agreeable. But sex? His interest in that was far less certain; the issue being that Mick was a part of his LGBT club. He’d have to see this guy week after week and share a growing circle of friends with him regardless of what they got up to tonight. Cas let out a labored sigh as he pondered what course of action to take and in his moment of indecision, Dean spoke again.

“Oh, sorry, I guess I’m in the way, right? You two probably wanna get back to it. Don’t mind me, I’m jus gonna go puke and pass out.”

“One can only hope,” muttered Mick under his breath.

Cas worked to hold down a laugh as he cast a conspiratorial glance at his date. A warm smile bloomed between them and Dean seemed to see it, huffing loudly as he turned away and stumbled towards the kitchen. Cas knew that it wasn’t over, though. Dean would be back, unable to resist the promise of company when faced with the solitude of his empty room. That was just Dean’s nature.

Cas decided to simply call it a night with Mick. It was just easier that way, rather than trying to regroup and recreate a mood that Dean had managed kill.

“I’m sorry,” he said to Mick, “but I think I need to say goodnight now.” The sound of Dean retching in the other room punctuated his sentiment and Mick crinkled up his nose in distaste.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, but let me walk you out,” he said with a smile, wanting one last kiss before the fun was officially over.

They said their goodbyes at Mick’s car, both agreeing that they’d had a good time and wanted to do it again. With that, Cas leaned in and brought their lips together. He let the kiss go on for a while too, enjoying the warmth that was churning in his chest and reluctant to part company.

When they finally pulled apart, he backed away slowly, giving a wave when the car pulled out into the street. Inside he found Dean sprawled out on the couch, eyes unfocused and body limp.

“Sorry,” he said without looking up at Cas.

“No you’re not,” he shot back sharply as he headed for the stairs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” challenged Dean, struggling to sit up a bit.

“I guess if you’re not getting laid then no one is getting laid,” growled Cas. The fact that he hadn’t actually intended to go that far tonight didn’t need to be said. There was truth in his words regardless and Dean would know it.

No defense or apology came from the couch, and Dean’s head dropped back down to the armrest.  Cas took the moment of silence that followed as an admission of guilt and marched up to his room. Despite his ruffled feathers, it didn’t take long to fall asleep. But, all night long he had vivid dreams that were strange and unsettling. He opened his eyes in the morning feeling off-kilter and the first thing he noticed was the sound of rain. It drummed steadily against the roof creating  a soothing sound. There was no thunder or wind, just a relentless downpour and the intermittent gushing of the overloaded rain gutters which ran along the eaves outside his window.

Cas laid with his eyes closed and listened for quite some time, not quite ready to crawl out of bed yet. Despite the red digits of his alarm clock indicating it was nearly noon, his bedroom was steeped in deep shadow, the gloomy skies outside offering little light.

Feeling sluggish, Cas lingered for a bit longer before the need to piss took over his thoughts completely. Heading down to the bathroom, he saw Dean when passing through the kitchen.

“Mornin’,” said Dean casually.

Cas managed a nod of acknowledgement before closing himself in the bathroom. Once his bladder was empty, the shower called to him and he indulged in a long one. After, he wiped thick steam from the mirror and began brushing his teeth. His mouth was full of minty foam when there was a knock at the door.

“You want breakfast?” Dean hollered from the other side.

“Sure,” he answered as best he could.

“What??”

With a labored sigh, Cas turned and opened the door so that his friend could see his mouth was full. When they made eye contact, Dean repeated his question. “You want breakfast?”

Cas gave an affirmative nod and then turned back to the sink. He took his time brushing, flossing, and shaving. When finished, he ran fingers through his damp hair. It was getting long; time for a haircut.

“Food’s ready,” called Dean from the adjacent kitchen.

Dropping the towel from his waist, Cas stepped back into the dirty boxers he’d worn downstairs and flicked out the light as he exited.

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he passed by Dean at the stove, “I’m going to get dressed.”

For some reason, perhaps the weather, Cas felt flat and listless. He was glad that the house was quiet and the urge to just curl up with a good book was creeping up on him. Dressing in sweats and a hoodie, he ambled back downstairs and plunked down on the couch next to Dean.

“Sunday morning brunch,” said his roommate as he passed a bowl of something to Cas, “It’s an egg scramble.” There was a fork already in the dish and Cas used it to stir the contents of the steaming bowl. It was hot on the bottom.

“Smells good,” he replied, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Woulda been better if we’d had some bacon in the house.”

Cas didn’t answer, preoccupied with blowing on the bite he was about to put in his mouth. They ate in silence for a while, Dean flicking channels with the remote but never really stopping on anything for long.

“Got plans today?”

“I need a haircut,” answered Cas. “I should probably go get one. But honestly, I don’t feel like doing much. I might just hold down the couch.”

“Sounds like a plan. Wanna play a game?” asked Dean, indicating the gaming console.

“Not really. You go ahead. I’m just going to read for a while… maybe take a nap.”

“You okay buddy?”

Giving a shrug, Cas simply said, “I feel sluggish today.”

“Man, if you’re pissed at me just say so.”

“Why would I be pissed at you?”

“Well, I fuckin’ ruined your fun last night.”

“I didn’t realize you even remembered last night,” said Cas, chancing a sidelong glance at his friend.

“Most of it.”

“Why were you home so early?”

“It wasn’t that early.”

“You were at a party on sorority row. Anything before sunrise counts as early.”

“That was my first and last Kappa party.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Lydia,” answered Dean cryptically.

Cas scraped the sides and bottom of his bowl with the fork, piling the last bits of egg, ham, and cheese into one final bite. Enjoying it, he hummed contentedly and pushed his empty dish to the coffee table next to his resting feet. “Are you going to elaborate on that? What did she do?”

“Are you kidding? That chick would eat her young. And besides,” admitted Dean, “she’s just not my type.”

“You have a type?” chuckled Cas.

“Don’t I?”

“Not so far as I can tell.” He’d known Dean Winchester since they were boys… back when girls were ‘icky’ and had ‘cooties’. From Dean’s first girl to his most recent, Cas had never noticed any kind of common thread between them. Some lasted just a few hours while others kept his attention for days or even weeks at a time. But there never seemed to be any real pattern in his choices.

“Shows what you know,” teased Dean. “I have a very specific type and Lydia’s not it. She’s way more work than I’m willing to put in for pussy.”

The statement was so very _Dean_. It was chauvinistic, for sure. But, as usual, Dean’s charm somehow made immediate forgiveness inevitable. Dean had always been somewhat of an enigma to Cas, breezing easily through life without the kind of entanglements, fears, and frustrations that weighed Castiel down at every turn.

But, at this moment it suddenly occurred to him that Dean was just very adept at compartmentalizing things. His world was very simple. Black and white. Family is family. Friends are friends. School is school. Sex is sex. None of those things has anything to do with the other. For Dean, there are no blurry lines or grey areas. Maybe that’s why he’s so confident all the time, so sure of himself.

It was the opposite for Cas. His thoughts and feelings about each part of his life were constantly bleeding into each other. His dynamic with his family affected his decisions about school, friends, religion, sex, money, everything. And vice versa. It was maddening sometimes the way it all looped together, bound his hands, kept him frustrated and helpless to do things the way he wanted to.  

In response to having heard the word ‘pussy’, Cas turned to Dean and said, “I hate that word.”

“Of course you do.”

“So it’s over with her?” asked Cas, studying Dean intently.

“Oh yeah,” he said with an eye roll. “It’s way over.” And with that said, Dean got to his feet and walked over to the book case where the video games and DVD’s were shelved. He dropped to one knee on the carpet and began surveying the choices.

Cas felt a smile sneak up on him for the first time today as he slowly came to the realization that he’d won his bet with the guys. He’d be getting his fifty bucks back and then some, because Dean and Lydia were over before turkey day.

With his back still to Cas, Dean continued to survey the choices as he said, “Man, why not play a quick game with me before you stick your nose in a damn book all day.”

Cas chuckled at Dean’s tone and considered indulging him.

“C’mon Cas,” he persisted, “let’s play something old… something we played back when we were kids.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. How ‘bout WrestleMania?”

“Maybe.”

“Dragonball Z?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Mario?”

“You’re getting closer.”

“Sonic the Hedgehog?”

“Do we still have that?”

“We’ve got the compilation.”

“I think I could make some time in my busy schedule to play Sonic with you,” allowed Cas with a widening smile.

“Awesome!” said Dean as he got to his feet. “I’ll make us some popcorn. Want a coke?”

Cas grinned as he watched Dean drop the game on the coffee table and practically run to the kitchen. His enthusiasm was contagious and Cas found himself feeling a bit giddy as he got up from the couch. The system they needed in order to play their nostalgic game was buried in a box somewhere in the dinette. It would need to be located and hooked up. He got to work as Dean moved about in the kitchen.

A half hour later they were back on the couch with popcorn, Twizzlers, and cans of Coke. “We just ate,” chuckled Cas as he settled in to play.

“Who cares,” countered Dean, “it’s part of the experience.”

It was strange to use a controller that was connected to the console by a cord, and the graphics were far less appealing than he’d remembered. This game had been cutting-edge when they’d first played it and it had been immersive and exciting at the time. Now, the images seemed blockish and the movements jerky. But, for as much as  the game was primitive in comparison to the current technology, their joy in playing it was undeniable. Both of them slipped easily into the dynamic and vocabulary of their childhood, trading the kind of insults that they’d used when they were ten.

When the screen froze up, Cas found himself disappointed that their fun was interrupted even though he’d already played far longer than he’d originally intended to. While Dean got up to try and fix the game, Cas headed to the bathroom to take a leak.

On his way back to the living room, he happened to glance out the kitchen window. The rain was still steadily falling, as it had been all afternoon. The overcast sky was growing inky and dark with the approach of nightfall.

Walking back to rejoin Dean, Cas saw that his friend was still on his knees examining the console. “What’s the prognosis?” Cas asked him.

“It doesn’t look good,” sighed Dean with a shake of his head. “It’s way over heated. I think we need to just turn it off for a while.”

“That’s too bad. I was having fun.”

“Me too,” said Dean fondly, getting up from the floor. “If you wanna keep reliving our childhood, we could watch a scary movie.”

“Okay,” he agreed easily. The desire to curl up with a book was long gone, replaced with warm feelings of nostalgia from remembering their younger days. The world had been simpler back then… no fears of the future or regrets from the past, no family conflicts to resolve and no complicated relationships to navigate. Life had been good back then, so very good.

“Remember how we used to love the Underworld movies?” asked Dean as he perused their shelves of DVD’s.

“Yes, I do. In fact, I wouldn’t mind re-watching them. “

“Kate Beckinsale,” sighed Dean. “Man we had _such_ a thing for her.”

“You had a thing for her,” corrected Cas. “I was just into the movies.”

“Really? I always thought we both beat off to her.”

“Well, she’s not unattractive, but I never really wanted her the way you did.”

“Yeah, I guess you’d have to like boobs for her to be spank material,” chuckled Dean, giving Cas a little wink. Then, suddenly jumping to his feet, he looked at Cas and said, “Wait.  Who were you into back then?”

“What?”

“Dude. I was just a kid… but I knew I wanted to bury my face in Kate’s rack. If I was old enough to be thinkin’ bout tits… then you must’ve been old enough to be thinkin’ bout dick. So, I’m curious. Who made you hard?”

Cas burst out laughing at that. “Really Dean? This is something you want to hear about?”

“Yeah man, I can’t believe I never thought of it before. But, now that I have, I gotta know. So spill it.”

Cas paused, biting his lip as he ruminated on whether or not to continue this line of discussion. Dean’s eyes were locked on Cas intently as he pushed up next to him on the couch and grinned, “You wanna tell me. I can see it on your face.”

Trying to hold back, Cas shook his head no. But Dean’s obvious curiosity was adorable and Cas wanted to indulge him. “Okay, okay,” he conceded, “If you must know –

“I must,” laughed Dean, bouncing in his seat. “I fucking must.”

“Constantine, Dean. Keanu Reeves.”

“Fuck! I shoulda known!” he shouted triumphantly. “You should’ve made me guess. I bet I would’ve gotten it in three.”

“No, Dean, you wouldn’t have.”

“I think I would’ve. I mean, I get it. He really had something… I don’t know, charisma? He was the fucking shit, man. In The Matrix? He blew my mind.”

“Well,” replied Cas impishly, “in my mind, he blew me.”

“Oh, you sinner!!” shouted Dean gleefully. “Who else, huh? Who else did it for ya?”

“Ryan Reynolds.”

“Oh,” replied Dean with a note of disbelief, “now that one kinda surprises me.”

“It shouldn’t. He was hot. Still is.”

Dean crinkled his nose as if he’d smelled something foul and said, “What’s hot about Ryan Reynolds?”

Cas bit his lip as he deliberated what to say next. He couldn’t possibly be honest because that would mean admitting that Ryan Reynolds was attractive simply because he reminded Cas of Dean. Perhaps it was more the roles he played than his actual personality. But Cas thought that both Ryan Reynolds and Dean Winchester were obnoxiously funny, overtly sexual, and utterly untamable – playboys to the end.

“I don’t know what it was,” fibbed Castiel, “maybe just charisma, like you said before.”

“What about your dude from last night?” asked Dean, still looking at Cas attentively.

“You mean Mick?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s no Keanu Reeves.”

“You gonna see him again?”

“I think so,” nodded Cas. “We had a good time.”

“I’ll say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing I guess. Look, m’sorry I cock-blocked ya,” sighed Dean. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright. So, are we going to watch a movie?”

“Yeah. How ‘bout the Matrix? You got me in the mood to watch it again and we have the whole series.”

“Okay. Should I order a pizza?”

“Sure,” said Dean as he got up, “I’m gonna hit the head while you do that.”

Going upstairs to retrieve his phone, Cas realized that he’d not even missed it today. He had dozens of messages and two missed calls. Heading back down to the living room, Cas ordered the pizza first and then settled on the couch to respond to his many messages. Among those from his friends were a few from Mick. Cas responded immediately, apologizing for having been away from his phone for a while.

He was immediately forgiven and asked out on another date. Castiel smiled as he responded in the affirmative, but said a hasty goodnight when Dean returned. As he crossed the room to load the movie, Dean flicked out the overhead light.

“You should put the porch light on for the pizza guy,” said Cas as he reached for a throw pillow.  Then he tucked his feet up on the cushion and curled up on his little pillow to watch the movie. Dean flopped down on the other end of the couch with the remote and pressed play.

“Try to keep from poppin’ a stiff one,” teased Dean as the screen came to life.

“I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise,” he responded with a wide smile.

After that, Cas’s attention was fully focused on the movie. Though the visual effects seemed far less impressive now than they had at the time of the film’s release, he was no less enthralled by the story. About the time that Morpheus was explaining ‘fields’ where humans were being kept as biological batteries, a knock at the door signaled the arrival of their dinner.

“You get it,” said Cas, extending his leg to shove at Dean with his foot. Exhaling a put upon sigh, his friend rose slowly to go answer the door.

“Goddam,” he cursed when he returned. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ out there.”

“That smells awesome,” said Cas as he sat up. They opened the box right there at the coffee table and resumed the movie, eating in the darkened living room as they watched Neo come to grips with his new world. When he’d had all he cared eat, Cas curled back up on the couch feeling content. They took a break between the first movie and the second to use the bathroom and stretch their legs. Then, when they came back to the couch, Dean rolled them a joint and the two kicked back to enjoy it as they watched the next installment.

Cas must’ve drifted off at some point during the third movie, because he was startled awake by a strange sound. It wasn’t loud by any means, just a soft click. What was unsettling was the complete absence of white noise left in its wake. No gentle hum from the DVD player across from them or from the refrigerator in the kitchen. Nothing. The complete and utter silence was unnerving and as he opened his eyes, he found the house devoid of light as well. The power was out.

He made to sit up but found that his legs were tangled with Dean’s. They’d each been on opposite ends of the couch and must’ve both stretched out at some point during sleep. The result was him having to gently kick Dean’s dead weight off of him before he could attempt to stand. His roommate didn’t wake when jostled, he simply turned over onto his back and let his legs stretch to the length of the couch. Not wanting to stub his toe or trip and fall, Cas waited until his eyes had adjusted better to the dark before walking cautiously across the room to peer out the window. He wanted to check the neighboring houses and see if the entire block was having a power outage, or if it was just them. What he saw when he parted the blinds and looked out was unexpected. And stunning.

Yes, the entire block was powerless and that meant there were no street lights. There weren’t any lights on in neighboring houses either. No artificial light whatsoever. The world was hushed and quiet, tinted a strange shade of blue - almost indigo. It seemed otherworldly. But, the truly remarkable thing was the ice... a thick layer of it covered absolutely everything.

Each branch of every single tree was wrapped in a shimmering layer of silvery ice that seemed to be at least a quarter of an inch thick. Limbs of trees bowed under the weight of it, branches bending unnaturally and nearing the ground. Every car parked on the street was also completely encased, as were mailboxes, fences, and telephone poles. Every house he could see boasted huge icicles and their clear coated rooftops were slick and gleaming under the light of the moon. He’d never seen anything like it.

“Dean,” he barked roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight.

“What?”

“Get up and come look at this.”

“Look at what?”

“Just get up,” he ordered. As he continued to gape at the ice kingdom outside, Dean begrudgingly sat up.

“What the hell,” he muttered as he came awake, “is the power out?”

“Yes.”

“Just us?” he asked as he rose and approached, “or everybody?”

“It’s everybody,” he answered. When Dean drew near, Cas stepped to the side so that they could both look out the window.

“Holy shit,” whispered Dean as he took in the scene. “How long was I asleep?”

“No idea. Have you ever seen anything like this?”                                                

“I’ve seen freezing rain before, but not like this. Look at the powerlines, man, they look like they’re about to snap.”

Cas peered upward and saw that Dean was right. The lines weren’t just sagging, they were pulled so low that he thought he might be able to reach up and touch them if he ventured outside..

“Man,” said Dean, “it looks like someone just turned the world upside down and dipped it in shellac.”

“What’s shellac?”

“Like varnish, Cas. Clear-coat.”

It was silent then for several minutes as they both looked out on the strange scene, side by side. “Cas,” said Dean softly, pulling his attention from the wonderland outside to Dean’s own green eyes. In the pale moonlight, Cas could see them slowly morphing from awed wonder to mischievous merriment. “Cas,” repeated Dean, a smile spreading over his face, “they’ll close campus for sure. There’s not gonna be class in the morning.”

Dean was right and as he realized it, Cas found himself feeling excited. He hadn’t had a snow day in years… not since high school. Turning away from the window, he tried to think of what he’d do with a free day. Perhaps they could have another day of nostalgic games and movies? And since there was obviously nothing to wake up early for, there was no reason not to start over on the movie they’d accidentally slept through.

Then, even as he was getting excited for all he’d do, Cas remembered that he couldn’t do any of it. There was no electricity. That meant no television or internet. It also meant no hot food and, eventually, no hot water. Irritated, he began moving slowly across the room in search of his phone. If nothing else, he at least wanted to know what time it was and how long the weather man was predicting this to last.

“Pull the blinds all the way up,” he told Dean, wanting more moonlight to see by.

When he found his phone, he slid his finger across the screen and it lit up in his palm. The time showed as almost five in the morning and his battery was at thirty percent. Damn. There was no way to even charge his phone. He sat down on the couch with the intention of just checking the weather reports and then turning the phone off to conserve it. But instead he wound up answering the many text messages that had come in while he and Dean had been occupied the previous evening. Several of his friends were awake now and messaging, having found themselves in a blackout much like Dean and Cas had. He kept his conversations with them short and ended each by saying that he’d turn his phone back on to check messages at ten o’clock.

When he’d finally powered down the phone, he walked over to stand with Dean who was still gazing out the window.

“What time is it?” his friend whispered.

“Five thirty.”

“What’s the weather report saying?”

“That everything is cancelled. Absolutely everything. The power company is working to restore us, but they don’t even have an ETA.”

“So it’s not just our block?” chuckled Dean.

“Most of town. All of campus. I told everyone that I’d turn my phone back on at ten and check messages.”

“I should turn mine off too,” he mumbled absently. Then, after a beat of silence, Dean turned away from the window and looked at Cas. “I was excited at first,” he said, “but now I’m starting to think this will be boring as fuck. What are we gonna do all day if there’s no power?”

“Read a book?”

“I’d rather eat dirt.”

“You’ll need an ice pick to find any.”

“Fuck. I’m bored already.”

Suddenly, Cas remembered his laptop. He’d left it charging. “My laptop will be good for a couple of hours. We can watch movies on it.”

“I think mine’s on the charger too. If it is, that’ll give us a few more hours of entertainment. But I guess we should probably save that for when we’re losing minds instead of using up all the juice right away.”

“You’re probably right.”

“Funny. I should be able to just drop into bed and go back to sleep right now. It’s ass o’clock in the morning. But I’m like, strangely wired.”

“I’ll get you a book,” said Cas softly, heading for the dinette. He didn’t have a ton of them, just a few favorites that he’d packed up when moving out of his parent’s house. He’d been meaning to put up a shelf for them since he’d moved in, but had never gotten around to doing it. They were still in boxes, mixed in with all the crap that was piled up in what _should_ be their dining room.

“You know that a book’s not entertainment to me, right?”

“Reading will put you to sleep,” countered Cas.

“Whatever,” sighed Dean.

“You know, if we’re really bored, we could unpack all this shit.”

“Wow. Congrats, Cas, you just made this even less fun.”

“Well if we’re bored anyway, we may as well get something done. Aren’t you tired of stepping around all this stuff?”

“Yeah. But I figure it’s less to pack when we move again,” countered Dean with a chuckle.

Walking around the house carefully, Cas went to each window and let in as much moonlight as possible. Some of their windows didn’t have blinds or curtains at all and were just covered by blankets. He yanked them down. Now that his eyes were adjusted and the windows were unobstructed, he found that he could see fairly well.

Kneeling down, he began sifting through boxes as the sun slowly came up outside. He was on the prowl for books, but what he found first was a box of board games. Wondering if there was anything fun, Cas began unpacking that one. Nothing too exciting, he thought. But then again, if they were still without power in 10 or 15 hours, Monopoly and Sorry! might sound like a shit ton of fun.

While Cas had been uncovering the windows, Dean had settled back down on the couch and opened up the pizza box to finish off the last few slices.

“Hey Dean,” Cas called as he neared the bottom of the box he was emptying.

“Yeah?”

“How much cash do you have in your wallet?”

“I dunno,” he answered with his mouth full. “Why?”

“Count it.”

Cas bit down the urge to laugh as he heard Dean chuck his cold pizza back into the box and begrudgingly dig out his billfold.

“I’ve got, um, forty seven dollars. Why?”

“Because I found cards.”

Almost immediately, Dean’s mood seemed to improve. Using toothpicks as currency, each equaling fifty cents, they played poker at their rickety little table in the dinette. The sun climbed high in the sky as they played hand after hand. It didn’t take long to start melting the ice. The heavy sound of yesterday’s rain had now been replaced by the trickling sounds of today’s ice as it thawed. They got up from the table often to look outside, and as the hours ticked by, their piles of toothpicks each grew and shrank several times as the two traded losses.

By the time ten o’clock rolled around, Dean was down to three bucks. Cas didn’t bother hiding his cheeky grin as he rose from the table and turned on his phone to check messages.

“This was fun, Dean,” he teased heartlessly, “we should do it again sometime.”

“Dude,” he protested, “This ain’t over. I’m gonna take my last six toothpicks and hand you your ass.”

Using his best cowboy voice, Cas leaned over the back of his chair and said, “Dean, you’ve got to know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em. When to walk away, and know when to run.”

“Then run,” ordered Dean as he rose from his chair and lunged playfully at Cas.

Grinning madly, Cas circled around the table, keeping it between them.

“You think this is funny?” Dean pressed, clearly working hard not to smile.

“I think this is VERY funny,” laughed Cas. “I’ll have a hard time outrunning you though, I mean, with all your money weighing me down.”

Still circling like a shark after blood, Dean kept pace with him as they rounded the table again and again, eyes locked on one another and their laughter growing louder. Whenever Dean seemed to think he had an edge, he’d turn and dart quickly in the other direction, reaching as he did to try and catch an elbow or shirt sleeve. But, Cas kept his feet moving and stayed ahead of him no matter which way he went.

“What are you going to do, mug me for it?” challenged Cas as they squared off. “I won it fair and square.”

“Dude. You gotta give me a chance to win my money back.”

“You have three dollars Dean. If you couldn’t beat me with almost fifty, then what in the hell makes you think you can beat me with three?”

“Fuck the toothpicks,” growled Dean, making one final lunge for Cas and coming up short. “Let’s take this shit to the next level.”

“And what level is that? Coupons for dishes and laundry?”

“Maybe. Or we could switch to strip poker.”

“What the actual fuck?”

“Strip. Poker.” repeated Dean firmly, planting his feet and bringing their game of chase to a halt.

“That’s for parties, Dean. There are only two of us.”

“Yeah. And I live with a gay guy so dick is the currency of the realm.”

“Well then,” sassed Cas, lunging to the left as he spoke to reignite their game of chase-around-the-table, “I guess it’s too bad that I’ve already seen the goods.”

“C’mon Cas,” pleaded Dean, barely keeping ahead, “I’m bored. And I’m broke. You gotta give me a chance to win my money back.”

“Stop moving,” said Cas firmly. They both halted in unison, each on opposite sides of their shitty little table. Neither man relaxed his posture though, both keeping their knees bent in case the other made a move. “If you agree to a truce and let me use my phone for a while, we’ll come back to the table when I’m done. I’ll deal three hands of blackjack to you and that will give you a better than average chance of reclaiming some toothpicks.”

“Deal.”

“Awesome,” muttered Cas as he headed for the couch, “and whatever you have after blackjack, I’ll take from you then.”

“The fuck you will,” countered Dean. “And with an attitude like that, you can bet your ass I’m not sharing my lunch with you.”

“What lunch?”

“The delicious lunch I plan to make and not share with you.”

“Mmm, cold spaghetti-o’s. I’m suddenly flooded with remorse,” he teased. “I’ll just be in the other room, counting my money.”

As Cas sat down in the living room with his phone, Dean went to his room, returning a few moments later with his laptop. He sat down cross legged on the couch and perched it on his knees. As Cas texted their friends and checked the weather, Dean fiddled with his computer.

“Benny said your phone’s going straight to voicemail.”

“Yeah, it’s dead,” answered Dean without looking up.

“What are you doing?”

“Playing poker.”

Cas busted out laughing and then offered Dean the use of his phone in case he wanted to contact anyone. “Nah,” his friend replied, “You’ve got us covered.”

“After cards do you want to watch a movie?”

“Sure.”

“How long do you suppose this blackout will really last?”

“Dunno,” answered Dean his attention still on the computer screen. “I mean, the ice is melting faster than I expected it to, but that doesn’t really matter right? At this point, the issue is the damage. It seems like there’s probably an awful lot to fix before things’ll be up and runnin’ again.”

“So, do you think there’s any chance we’ll have power back tonight?”

“I hope so.”

“Me too.”

“Ya know what, Cas?”

“What?”

“It hasn’t been so bad.”

“No,” agreed Cas with a smile, “it hasn’t.”

The updated forecast was for continued melting until sundown, and then overnight everything would freeze again. Based on the anticipated highs for Tuesday, it seemed that the ice would be gone long before sundown on that day at the latest. Possibly sooner. Setting his phone aside, Cas looked up and said, “Any chance we can do lunch before cards?”

“I haven’t decided whether to feed you or not,” grinned Dean.

“We both know you’re going to feed me. And I’m just dying to hear what you actually plan to make.”

“Hot dogs, Cas, I plan to cook hot dogs.”

“Oh I can’t wait to see this,” he snickered.

An hour later, Cas found himself once more sitting side by side with Dean on the couch. Across the coffee table from them was their broken chair which now had Dean’s laptop sitting on it and playing the last installment of The Matrix trilogy. It was kind of pathetic to watch such a grandiose movie on a tiny laptop screen, but it was better than nothing.

On the coffee table was a round pizza pan, and on that pan now burned every single candle they had in the house, including the votive candles that Cas had bought right before Halloween when they’d been planning a party. He’d intended to set them in carved pumpkins, but after Lydia had changed Dean’s plans, he’d wound up just tossing the entire box of them into the hall closet unused.

Now, over a wide circle of flickering flames, he and Dean roasted hot dogs. Their skewers were simply old chopsticks that were left over from all the times they’d ordered Chinese only to eat it with forks. When Dean had pulled a fistful of them out of the junk drawer, Cas had been stunned. He’d known they were there, just hadn’t thought of using them. Nor had he thought of the candles as a heat source for food preparation. Dean could talk down about himself all he wanted, but in reality, the guy had mad problem solving skills.

“You’d be a good one to have around during a zombie apocalypse,” joked Cas, as they waited for their food to slowly cook over the tiny flames.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d feed you cold spaghetti-o’s.”

“In the spirit of this, I’m going to give you an extra hand of blackjack.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll kick your ass either way.”

Adopting his ridiculous cowboy voice one more time, Cas drawled, “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

Dean did not wind up kicking ass. His loss to Castiel was slow and crushing and if it hadn’t been so much fun to beat that cocky fucker, Cas might’ve felt pity watching the man’s mood sour. When he’d folded his last hand, Dean got to his feet and said, “Dammit, I’ve got cabin fever. I need to get outta here for a while but there’s nowhere to fuckin’ go.”

“Let’s go check on Baby,” suggested Cas. Some fresh air would do them both good and they’d expend some pent up energy trying to scrape the ice off her windshield and windows.

“Yeah,” nodded Dean, “good idea.”

They both pulled on coats and shoes, heading for the door. But when Dean tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge. Cas stepped up and tried it too, thrusting his body weight into the action and jiggling the door knob at the same time. He may as well have been pushing on a brick wall.

“It seems to be frozen shut,” sighed Cas.

“Ya think?” barked Dean roughly, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, Cas.”

“Another movie instead?” tried Castiel.

“Don’t wanna sit around anymore,” complained Dean as he turned away from the door. “We spent all day yesterday on that couch and most of today too. Now we can’t even go outside? Man, I gotta blow off some steam or I’m gonna lose my shit.”

“So I’m guessing you’re not interested in playing a board game?” chuckled Cas.

“Not really,”replied his friend flippantly.

Leaning on the wall as he took off his shoes, Castiel said, “I think I’ll go upstairs and do some studying.”

“Thought you had it all done?” countered Dean.

“Technically, yes,” he replied as he headed for his room. “But I’ve got a physics midterm paper coming up that I could get started on.”

“I don’t get why you’d wanna do homework that hasn’t even been assigned yet,” huffed Dean. Pausing with his foot on the bottom step, Cas looked back at his friend and said, “Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

“We could mess around some,” suggested Dean with a noncommittal shrug.

Cas was stunned into silence, wondering if he’d heard correctly… was that an invitation?

“What?” challenged Dean with a sexy smirk, “you gonna try and pretend you’re not interested? Play hard to get?”

Cas busted out laughing and turned away from his friend. On the inside, hope was rising in his chest that something might happen between them tonight. But on the outside, he did his best to play it cool and not let Dean see how much he wanted it. Climbing the stairs to his room, Cas glanced back at Dean and called over his shoulder, “Who’s playing?”

Reaching the top of the steps, Cas pivoted around the corner and headed for his room. With daylight quickly fading, there wasn’t much light coming in the windows anymore, but he could still see fairly well. Settling down at his desk, he opened his laptop and pulled up the desktop folder labeled ‘Physics’. He’d barely even gotten it open when he heard Dean come barreling up the steps.

Aside from moving day, when they’d carried all of Cas’s stuff up here, he couldn’t remember a single time when Dean had come up the stairs to his room.

“No fucking way, Cas,” barked Dean as he pushed through the door and stepped into Cas’s personal space. “There’s no way in hell I’m lettin’ you run out that battery on homework.”

“You said you didn’t want to watch a movie,” argued Cas, “other than that, my laptop is only good for solitaire and homework.”

“Okay, Cas,” said Dean, flopping down on the bed, “I admit it. I was a douche.”

“Cranky douche,” corrected Castiel.  

“Yeah, whatever. I was a cranky douche. Now put away the homework and hang out with me.”

“Alright, you’re forgiven,” conceded Cas, closing his laptop and walking over to the bed.

“I didn’t apologise,” grinned Dean.

“Do I have to beat it out of you?” Cas teased as he towered over Dean.

“Bring it,” challenged Dean from the mattress..

Cas didn’t hold back. He plunged onto the bed, his hands grasping Dean’s wrists and trying to pin him down. Dean laughed and pulled his knees up, curling around and out from under Cas’s body. Using his legs for leverage, he tried to break Cas’s hold, but it was firm. They had often wrestled like this when they’d been in elementary and middle school and the two had been evenly matched opponents so there had seldom been a clear winner. As young boys, the matches would usually end only when one of them either got tired or resorted to playing dirty to gain an unfair advantage.

Remembering a trusty old move from those days, Cas released one of Dean’s wrists so he could thread his arm around Dean’s leg and pinch his hamstring muscle mercilessly. With is hand suddenly freed, Dean was able to clamp down on the back of Cas’s neck to roll him. But it was too little, too late. Cas had embedded his fingers in flesh as though they were lobster claws.

“Uncle! Uncle!” Dean cried out, surrendering to Cas and going limp under him on the bed.

Cas grinned wickedly at having earned another victory today.

“Damn,” Dean growled, “you still fight dirty.”

Putting his elbow into the mattress and propping his head up on his hand, Cas looked at his friend and said, “Dean, do you know what I just realized?”

“That your knee is digging into my nards?”

Giggling out an apology as he adjusted his limbs, Cas settled down onto his side next to Dean.

“Besides my nards, what did you just notice?” Dean inquired.

“That we’re in bed together. Dean, we haven’t been in a bed together since, like, seventh grade.”

“Yeah, and even then we were a bit too old for it,” he said, his green eyes shining warmly.

Unable to hold the gaze, Cas looked down at the space between their shoulders and kept his voice soft as he asked, “Dean, do you still want to blow off some steam?”

“Yeah.”

“I do too,” Cas admitted as he raised his chin to meet eyes with his friend. “And look, Dean, you’re straight so I don’t really know where the lines are for you.  So if I… well, if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable…

“Yeah?” prodded Dean when Cas’s voice trailed off.

“... just say ‘uncle’,” grinned Cas.

Dean’s chest was still shaking with gentle laughter when Castiel pushed up his shirt and leaned in to put his mouth on the taut skin that stretched over his stomach. Dragging his tongue down his friends treasure trail, Cas was unhurried as he eased down the zipper. He found himself setting a slow pace as he got Dean out of his pants. He then licked gently along the shaft, swept his tongue along the moist underside of balls, and mouthed around the base a few times before coming back up.

When he finally opened his mouth over Dean’s tip, he sank down slowly on the man’s cock, excruciatingly slow, allowing plenty of time for his spit to coat Dean’s swollen length completely.

Coming back up, he adjusted his body and locked his neck, letting his throat adjust before sinking back down again. He gave Dean one long and languid slide, pushing himself farther and farther until his throat was stretching around the crown of Dean’s dick.

Speeding up for just a moment, Cas bobbed up and down repeatedly, allowing the man’s tip to bump the back of his throat several times in quick succession. Dean groaned in pleasure, and as he did, Cas gagged a little on the fat, bulbous size of him.

Slowing down again, Cas continued to vary his patterns of licking and sucking, purposefully keeping things slow and erogenous for quite some time. He loved the sensuality of what he was doing and Dean was very responsive, his body twisting and writhing in delectation.

Using purposeful movements, Castiel’s lips explored between Dean’s legs, coming to know his scent and the textures of his skin as well as the sounds he made as he was pleasured.

Cas was in heaven as he gratified Dean. He loved hearing Dean’s heavy breathing and the feel of those rough fingers twisting into his hair again and again.

More than anything, he hoped that his friend would simply enjoy this experience and not think too deeply about what was happening. Because if he did, Dean might start to notice that Castiel was doing far more than just giving an incredible blow job. With all his heart, Cas was blissfully making love to Dean’s cock.

 

 


	4. The Devils Driveway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The best part of my day today... finding out that Destiella had edited this chapter DAYS sooner than expected! Such a lovely surprise!

                                                         

 

Generally speaking, Cas preferred to spit. But, when Dean came, he swallowed it down. Despite the foul taste and sketchy texture of jizz, it was impossible to find the act disagreeable when he was doing it for his best friend. The reward for his effort was the sound of his own name, garbled and nearly unrecognizable, tumbling from Dean Winchester’s mouth unabashedly. In that final moment, his powerful hands latched onto Cas as though they’d never let go. 

When it was over, Dean tipped his head back and shouted to the ceiling, “JE - SUS!”

Cas grinned proudly. 

“Fuck, Cas,” continued Dean. “I’ve never been blown like that in my life.”  

Still beaming, Cas laid back to relax. There was a long and comfortable silence as the two laid side by side in Cas’s bed, recovering normal breath. A few minutes later, Dean groaned and rolled towards Castiel, stretching like a cat before pushing in close to say, “I fucked up last time we did this.”

Wondering what Dean was getting at, Cas turned to face his friend and said, “What do you mean?”

Dean seemed uncertain, taking a deep breath and letting it out before actually speaking. “Look man, I didn’t even…

“Dean, what? Reciprocate?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, clearly glad that Cas had found the word he’d been searching for.

“I was a fuckin’ asshole last time. And fuck if you don’t deserve better. I wish I could do what you just did. But I honestly don’t think I have it in me.”

“Dean, you don’t have to -

“Don’t do that, Cas. I’m not lookin’ for an out, okay? Just, maybe, a little help.”

“Help?”

“Aside from blowing you, what can I do? Y’know, tell me what to do and I’ll try.”

“Dean, you have a dick. You know what feels good. This isn’t rocket science.”

“I s’pose not,” he chuckled softly. “I just feel kinda weird about it, I guess. I mean, I’m used to havin’ the only dick in the bed.”

“Don’t think about it then. You’re the one who told me that, remember? You said to either do it or don’t, but don’t sit there and think about it, right?”

Dean smiled at him then, seeming to realize that his own advice had been good advice. Without further consideration, he reached out and wrapped his hand around Castiel’s cock. 

Dean’s grip was clumsy but firm and the thrill of feeling that heavy hand on him sent a jolt of electricity through Cas’s entire body. His breath caught and hitched audibly enough to embarrass him, but Dean seemed to pay it no mind. He fumbled a little, then rearranged his body to free up some elbow room before trying again. 

“It’s weird,” Dean grumbled after a few abortive attempts. “I’ve been doing this to myself all my life. I mean, I started when I hit double digits and haven’t missed a single day since. I should be better at this.”

“I know what you mean,” replied Cas. “The angle is awkward when you do it for someone else. It took me a while to get used to it too.”

“Who was your first?” asked Dean, his hand still stroking but not really falling into a rhythm.

“Kevin Tran from summer camp. You remember him?”

“Nope.”

“He’s the one that tipped his canoe.”

“Oh, now I remember. I didn’t know he was gay.”

“No one did. We kept each other’s secret.”

“Cas, there’s so much about you that I never even knew. I’m startin’ to think I’ve been a shitty friend.”

Cas reached out and laid his hand over the one Dean was using to stroke him, bringing it to a stop. “If I had known how supportive you would be, I would’ve told you sooner.”

“Thanks,” whispered Dean. The moment stretched out between them and then, like a string pulled too tight, it snapped. Dean pulled his hand away and broke eye contact.

Cas held his breath, wondering if Dean would leave now… make an excuse and head back downstairs. He waited, watching as Dean scooted back and put some space between their bodies. 

“Roll over,” said Dean softly, his eyes glued on the expanse of sheet between them. 

Uncertain, Cas did as Dean said and let his eyes settle on the empty white wall he was now facing.

“Seems like it might be easier this way,” whispered Dean from behind him.Cas felt nervous tingles break out over his body as his friend pressed up against his back side. Dean’s hand rested on Cas’s hip for a beat and then reached around to take Cas’s girth back into his hand. Beginning to stroke again, Dean seemed more confident like this, perhaps it was the absence of of eye contact, or maybe it really was just an easier angle. The reason didn’t matter to Cas. Not when they were skin to skin, naked and spooning, with Dean’s breathing tickling over the back of his neck. 

His friend was growing more confident by the minute and as he built up a rhythm, Cas was finding it harder and harder not to roll his hips. Soon he began approaching his climax, the physical act of stimulation taking a backseat to the thrilling knowledge that it was Dean making him feel this way. Being held so closely while it happened was intimate and Cas felt his heart swell as he was slowly but surely coaxed towards an orgasm. Sometimes it was just so fucking easy to love Dean Winchester. 

When he came, Cas tried to keep quiet and still so as not spook his friend. Though he failed on both counts, Dean didn’t seem put out. In fact, he seemed almost proud of himself as he pulled his sticky hand back from Cas and stared at it. 

“Here,” said Cas, leaning over the edge of the bed to grab a random shirt from the floor. He passed it to Dean and said, “just wipe it off on this.”

Accepting the garment but not actually using it, Dean continued to stare at his slimy hand for a long minute before whispering, “I kinda wanna taste it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “I mean, m’not gonna. But I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t curious. Do we all taste the same, Cas? Or does each guy have his own unique flavor?”

“Honestly Dean, it’s the same for the most part. But, there can be a slight difference. Have you tasted your own?”

“Would ya judge me if I said I had?”

“No,” he said, chancing a glance at Dean’s face. “But if you’ve tasted your own, then you know enough. No need to try mine.”

They lingered in the bed for a while longer, just talking about random shit. At some point, Cas realized that he was fighting to keep his eyes open. Falling asleep would be a waste. Dean was naked in his bed… how could he possibly do anything but stay awake all night to watch him like a creeper?

One minute he was desperately clinging to consciousness and the next, he was blinking sunlight out of his eyes. It was morning. 

Not only had he fallen asleep, he’d slept the entire night. His bed was so much bigger now, with Dean’s body gone. Cas didn’t need to roll over to know that he was alone, Dean's absence was something he could feel. 

Because he’d fallen asleep uncovered, his naked body was chilled and shivering; his feet felt like blocks of ice. Since he’d never cleaned himself up last night, he was also sticky. Checking the clock on his nightstand, Cas saw that it was almost seven. A hot shower sounded incredibly enticing and he kicked his feet out angrily when he realized that he couldn’t have one. Without power there was simply no way that the reservoir in the hot water heater had anything but ice-cold water in it. Just when he’d swung his legs over the edge of the bed to get up, a loud crash startled him out of his skin. 

It sounded like the roof was caving in. Following the thunderous racket overhead was a strange tinkling sound, like that of shattered glass raining down. Cas leapt to his feet and grabbed yesterday’s discarded pants from the floor. He barely had one leg in when another explosion of noise began overhead. Two more explosive claps, each followed by a grating, grinding sound on the roof and then another deluge reminiscent of broken glass falling. The entire house seemed to shudder, reverberating for a moment before silence settled over it again. 

Stumbling around his room, Cas snatched a dirty t-shirt from the floor, and headed  hastily out of his room and down the stairs. By the time he had reached the bottom, he’d shrugged into his shirt.

Emerging out onto the first floor, Cas felt a blast of cool air sweep over him. Seeking the origins of the draft, his eyes landed on the front door. It was standing open and Dean’s silhouette was framed in it. 

“What the fuck was that?” breathed Cas, stepping up behind his roommate to look outside. 

“I’m pretty sure that was every ounce of ice from the roof,” Dean answered, a wide grin spreading over his face. 

Cas blinked against the bright morning sunshine, reflected and amplified by the ice that still covered most everything. Dean stepped to the side so Cas could fit into the doorway and they both surveyed the scene. The street was wet and so were the sidewalks. Much like yesterday, the sound of dripping was everywhere. But, the ghostly stillness that had marked yesterday as strangely unsettling was noticeably absent. 

Craning his neck to look up, he saw that the eaves were clear of icicles. He couldn’t see the roof from this angle, but the perimeter of the house was outlined by a pile of ice and snow chunks. It seemed that Dean’s assessment was correct - once the ice had started to melt and was no longer securely anchored to the roof, it had slid off in great weighty chucks, which had all crumbled into gravel-sized pieces when impacting the ground.

An intermittent clunking sound drew Cas’s attention and, in response, his eyes scanned the landscape of their neighborhood until he finally identified what it was. Icicles. They were dropping like stones from the eaves and gutters of nearby houses, falling to the hard ground with a thumping noise. The layers of ice that still clung to tree branches and mailboxes were noticeably thinner than they had been yesterday. 

“What the fuck is  _ he _ doing?” laughed Dean, gesturing across the street. 

In the yard diagonal from theirs, a middle aged man was swinging a baseball bat up into the branches of a tree. Shards of ice were raining down around him as he clobbered the tree again and again. Watching for a few minutes, both started to realize that beating the ice off the tree was eliminating the weight of it. The branches beaten with a bat were now back to normal instead of being bent and pulled towards the ground.

A few houses down, someone was shuffling along and distributing salt onto the sidewalk. 

“It’s over,” said Cas, realizing that if people were coming outside, life would soon be back to normal. 

They didn’t linger in the doorway for long, soon dipping back inside long enough to put on  socks and shoes. Slipping and sliding towards the street, they laughed like children. Then, armed with ice scrapers, they set to the task of clearing Dean’s car. 

All down their street, there was bustling activity as the neighborhood began to recover. The exhilaration of fresh air kept both of them outside for quite some time. When they did finally come inside, they leaned on the wall to remove their shoes. They left them dripping in the entryway and headed through the living room towards the kitchen. Two steps inside the door, Cas noticed that the little orange lights on their modem were blinking. 

“Power’s on!” he shouted, hardly daring to believe it. 

Bounding into the kitchen, he looked at the microwave. It’s digital display was blinking 12:00. He was so thrilled to have electricity back that he didn’t even bristle when Dean shoved past him to claim, “... dibs on the first shower!” 

Cas had to chuckle when he heard Dean howl and curse from the bathroom. He chuckled to himself knowing that Dean probably hadn’t realized the hot water heater would need some time to warm back up..

Their celebratory mood lasted all day, despite the fact that there were menial chores to be done. Among other things, they had to sort through the fridge and decide what to throw away and what to keep. Most of their food wound up in the trash, deemed ruined. A trip to the grocery store was their first outing and it was liberating to go somewhere, even though driving was still a hazard. 

That night, they cooked a pot of chili on the stove and ate brown-n-serve rolls with it. Both were preoccupied for most of the evening with their phones and laptops, catching up on the social media they’d been missing. 

Within twenty four hours, they were back to taking everything for granted; and within a week, the storm had been forgotten. Dean grew prickly when Thanksgiving rolled around, but Cas understood. Going home was hard on Dean. 

Cas’s own family wasn’t much fun, but at least it was somewhat functional, if one didn’t look too closely. Dean’s family, however, was a trainwreck. His father was a raging alcoholic and managed to ruin most occasions in one way or another. 

Dean’s younger brother Sam, who still lived at home as he finished up high school, didn’t seem willing to just accept the situation and try to make due the way Dean had. No, Sammy had fought their father tooth and nail, never letting anything slide and never making any excuses for their old man’s behavior. The brothers, though close, often fought over how to handle their dad. Cas felt genuinely sorry for his friend and the living situation that Dean had grown up in, but there wasn’t anything he could do. Ever since junior high he’d been inviting Dean to come to his house for the holidays and bring Sam along, but his friend had always passed on the offer and never really given any reason why. 

Since Halloween, Mick and Cas had been out on three more dates. They shared an attraction, that was clear, and they had fun together. But for some reason that Cas couldn’t put his finger on, he was starting to lose interest. Unable to conjure a rational explanation for his apathy, he simply did his best to hide it until he could figure out why he was feeling it.

Mick was headed overseas for the holiday break at Christmas, flying back home to Wickford which was just outside London. So, he’d be remaining on campus for the long weekend of Thanksgiving. Cas felt horrible not inviting the man home with him. But, honestly, he didn’t even want to go that badly… why bother inviting anyone else? When his conscience took on a condescending tone and reminded him that Dean had been extended an invitation, he chose to ignore it on principle.

After all, Dean’s invitation didn’t really count. First of all, he’d known it would be declined. Second of all, he’d been invited as a friend not as a boyfriend. But, sadly, Cas also had to admit that when it came to Dean - all bets were off. No matter what happened between them in the future, Castiel knew that there would always be a  special place in his heart for Dean Winchester...a place where no one else would ever fit and no rules or logic would ever apply. 

The night before Dean was set to drive home to Kansas, he stole into Cas’s room and crawled into his bed. 

“Hope this is okay,” he whispered.

Cas only nodded because he didn’t trust his voice. He knew that this time was different than the other two they’d shared. Dean wasn’t horny or looking to blow off steam; he was seeking  comfort. And Cas gave it to him. Recreating what Dean had previously done for him, Cas turned his friend over and slid up behind him. Reaching over Dean’s hip, he pushed his track pants down and stroked him to completion. After, he used his own discarded t-shirt in a half-assed attempt to clean up before pulling the covers up around them and returned his arm to Dean’s waist. He was surprised by how long Dean allowed them to lay like that, practically cuddling. But eventually, he whispered, “Thanks Cas,” and slipped out of the bed. 

Late the next morning when Dean was loading up his car he once again offered Cas the passenger seat. Unfortunately, Cas had to decline. He’d ignored the calls from his parents for too long and by the time he’d spoken with them, they had already purchased a plane ticket for him. Lesson learned. 

Coming home from college his freshman year had been jarring. Home hadn’t really felt like home anymore. It was colder now, like a museum. Things were just a little too clean and his parents seemed distant from one another. Additionally, both he and his sister Anna had changed a lot since they’d last seen each other. She’d always been straight-laced and a bit uptight, much like their mother, but her stuffy east-coast school had added an air of condescension and disapproval to her personality. It had been difficult to see her over the holidays and realize that any kind of kinship he’d previously shared with her was gone. 

But, this year hadn’t been as bad so far. Perhaps it was because he’d had a better idea of what to expect, or maybe it was because this year his older brother Gabriel had also come home for the holiday. Having him around seemed to return some warmth to their family home, some laughter to their meals, and some camaraderie between the siblings that Cas had thought was gone forever.

Gabe had recently transferred out to California, changing his major as well as his school. Now, as they sat around the huge dining room table with distant relatives for the Thanksgiving meal, he regaled everyone with stories of how different San Francisco was from his previous home in New York. He told of the adventures he’d had with new friends and how much he loved his classes. 

Their parents, not bothering to mask their disapproval, challenged him on everything. They mourned the social standing he’d forfeit by becoming a chef rather than a corporate executive, reminded him that he’d wind up working nights and weekends, and told him in no uncertain terms that he’d be hard pressed to find work that would ‘pay worth a damn’. 

All the while, Gabe managed to not only deflect their words, but dismiss them. Cas marveled at his brother’s ability to disregard the things they said. He, on the other hand, was weak in that respect. He was very aware that his parents were chipping in to pay for his schooling. In his mind, that did give them some say-so in how he approached his education. Sadly, when they found themselves unable to sway Gabriel, they turned to him. 

“So, Castiel,” said his father firmly, “I hope you’ve been doing some thinking about the transfer that we discussed over the summer?”

“I have,” he lied. Looking around at the faces at the table, he sought Gabe’s eye and hoped for support. “I can understand why you want me to get my degree from a more prominent school. But, I’m happy where I am, and I don’t think I’m ready to change. I’d like to finish pre-med without changing schools.”

“Your chances of acceptance into a decent medical school are much better if -

“Dad,” said Cas, willing his voice to be firm despite the fear in his heart, “I said, I’m happy where I am.”

“That’s horse shit,” said his father. Then, to the rest of the table, he said, “Please excuse my language.”

At that point, his mother spoke up. “Castiel, your father and I are simply concerned that your friendship with Dean is becoming a crutch.”

“You’re like Linus with his blanket,” growled his father, “and you’ll never amount to anything dragging that thing around with you.”

“Dean isn’t a ‘thing’,” retorted Cas, indignant anger fueling a fire of anger in his belly. “Dean is my best friend, always has been. I like having him as a roommate and I like our house, our friends, my classes… dammit Dad, I like my school!”

Around them, the table grew quiet as their entire extended family waited to see how the head of this household would respond to Cas’s outburst. 

Looking to Gabe, Cas found his brother staring at him with a pronounced smirk, one eyebrow raised and his wine glass lifted in a ‘cheers’ type gesture. Before he could help it, Cas felt his own answering smile break through. He lifted his glass too, tilting it towards his brother and giving a wink. 

While the rest of the family tentatively began speaking again, awkward small talk in the wake of strained words, he and Gabe shared a moment. 

A four day weekend would’ve felt short if he’d been at home with Dean. But back here? It felt like weeks.  He couldn’t wait to fly out on Sunday. Dean was here in Lawrence too, but he may as well have been a million miles away.

The fifteen days between Thanksgiving and Christmas break were crammed full of activity. There were term papers and review sessions to prep for finals, meetings with academic advisors, as well as personal things like Christmas shopping. The culmination was finals week, during which every student was tense and frustrated. 

The day that exams were finally finished, the campus came alive with celebratory energy. Bars overflowed, parties popped up everywhere, and Dean and Cas’s place was no exception. There was a keg in the kitchen and the place was packed. Friends drifted in and out, some staying all night while others split their time between several parties. 

Charlie and Dorothy stopped by for a while and both seemed tipsy. Cas had been sitting on the front porch with Mick when they arrived, talking to a large group while Mick smoked a cigarette.  The ladies, having walked up the street from some other house party, perched on the porch to chat until the group broke apart. Then, Cas and Mick had led them through the house to get beers. 

They never made it to the keg though, because Charlie halted their progress in the dinette. She and Dorothy had been hailed by someone they knew and drawn into the drinking game that was being played at the table. Before long, Cas and Mick had been roped into the game as well. They were forced to sit on boxes that Cas had yet to unpack because there were no more chairs. 

The game was “I Never,” and Cas felt self conscious as his turn rolled around. Next to him, Mick took his turn saying, “Never have I ever had sex in a car.”

The group around the table laughed as most of them drank and Cas smiled warmly because he didn’t have to. It was his turn next and he said, “Never have I ever had sex on the floor.”

Again, most everyone around them drank. Charlie leaned in with a conspiratorial grin and whispered, “Clearly you two have some ground to cover.”

Later that night, as the crowd thinned, Mick made a play to go upstairs. Cas went along with it because he honestly felt like he couldn’t put this off much longer. He was a college guy, not a high school kid. Sooner or later, it was going to seem weird if they didn’t fuck. It was a wonder he’d been able to put it off this long. 

And, honestly, he could think of worse things to do. It’s not like Mick was unattractive, quite the opposite, actually. When they messed around, Cas always enjoyed himself. But the act of actual sex was something he’d managed to side step until this moment. Climbing the stairs to his room with Mick behind him, Cas was glad to be a bit on the drunk side. His fuzzy head made it easy not to think too deeply about what he was about to do. 

Closing the door to his room muted the noise from downstairs, but even putting on music didn’t cover it completely. Mick was looking at him as if he fully understood that Cas had some reservations. Taking a few steps to close the distance, he said to Cas, “I hope this is alright. I don’t want to rush you.”

“Yes you do,” smiled Cas with affection, “and it’s okay. I know I’ve kept you waiting.”

“Why have you?”

“I - I don’t know,” he admitted, reaching out and taking the man into his arms. “That’s the truth. I guess I’m just not sure of things. I’m not sure I feel right about it.”

“What can I do?” whispered Mick, leaning in to softly nibble around Cas’s ear. “How can I make it easier for you?”

_ Be Dean. _

The thought had come out of nowhere. But, once the sentiment had presented itself, Cas found that he could not ignore it. Mick was great, but he just wasn’t Dean. And because of that, Cas had no compulsion to deepen the relationship by having sex.

Mick seemed to sense that there was something going unsaid. “You’ve got a secret,” he challenged, pulling back to look at Castiel. Though his voice was soft and his British accent was charming, the words were accusatory. All Cas could do was nod silently.

“You’re in love with someone else.” It wasn’t a question. 

Again, he nodded. There was no point in trying to hide it.

“Is it Dean?” asked Mick intuitively. 

“Dean is straight,” answered Cas, dodging the question.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t be in love with him.”

Unable to deny it, Cas sighed as he said, “I can’t help it. I know it’s foolish. But I can’t get past it. I’ve tried, I really have.”

“How long?” asked Mick, stepping back from Cas and seating himself on the edge of the bed.

“I honestly don’t know. Years.”   
“What am I to you, Cas?”

“I really like you, Mick,” began Cas. 

The man cut him off curtly before he could finish. “But,” he interrupted tersely, “you’ll never really  _ want  _ me. Not like him.”

Unwilling to say anything hurtful, Cas remained silent. He stared at the floor as he listened to Mick getting up from the bed and crossing the room. Frozen like a statue, Cas didn’t even breathe as the man’s footfalls on the stairs signaled his departure. 

Deeply saddened, Cas crawled into bed thinking of Dean and wondering how long he’d actually been in love. 

_ Too long. _

The first time he’d messed around with Dean, Cas had been worried that it would jeopardize their friendship; change how they felt about each other. But that had been pointless. Their friendship was just as strong now as it had ever been.

Initially he’d also feared that he’d feel ‘used’ after an encounter Dean. But that hadn’t happened either, because Dean really loved him. Dean might not be  _ in love  _ with him, but Cas knew that he was loved. 

Mulling it over, Castiel came to realize that the real impact of messing around with Dean was one he’d never even anticipated: simply having any kind of sexual relationship with Dean was going to keep him from being able to fall in love with anyone else.

If he and Dean had never crossed that line, things with Mick would have played out differently. There was no way to know for sure, but Cas could feel it. 

At this point, it was impossible to pinpoint when he’d fallen for Dean. Perhaps it had begun to happen before he’d even known that he was gay. Regardless, the perpetual ache of this unrequited love had been with him for so long that it had settled over him like a second skin… a constant misery that never seemed to abate. He wanted to be rid of it.  

But, he never would be. Not if he kept fueling the fire by indulging in sexual contact with Dean Winchester. 

As he laid there in bed and thought about how unhealthy it was to have relations with Dean, he already knew he was powerless to stop. To prove it, his mind betrayed him and began playing back scenes from their times together. Soon he was hard as rock between his legs and wishing for Dean’s hands on him.  

Sadly, he knew there was no chance of Dean seeking him out tonight; not with a house full of drunken coeds downstairs. One of them would be pulled into Dean’s bedroom before the night was over. 

Perhaps if the lady of the evening were vigorous as she rode his cock, Dean would moan loud enough for Cas to hear it.  

Even thinking about Dean’s cock brought a bead of liquid to the tip of his own thickened dick. As he sank into warm and fuzzy memories of their previous encounters, Cas slid his hand down under the covers. . 

For the millionth time, Cas shucked down his pants, made a fist, and humped into his hand as he thought of Dean’s sexy smile, bright eyes, and beautiful body. At least, he told himself, he now had some very visceral images to help bring his body to completion. Now, he knew what Dean looked like, sounded like, and tasted like as he came. Thinking of the man’s pouty lips panting breath on his neck, and those bowed legs twitching as Cas sucked him off, Castiel came. Hard. Then he fell asleep, alone.

The following morning, Cas went downstairs to survey the damage from their party. Finding it wasn’t too bad, he began cleaning. He was carrying a bag of garbage out when he heard Dean call out from behind his bedroom door. “Cas?”

Through the door, he answered, “Yes, Dean?”

“Can you come in here?”

With a bag of trash still in one hand, Cas opened the door and peeked his head in. “Good morning,” he grinned, seeing Dean in bad shape. “You look like shit.”

“Feel like shit,” he grumbled, flipping back the covers, “and I’m stuck with this.”

Cas was stunned as he took in the obscene tenting of Dean’s boxers.

“Didn’t you find someone to take care of that last night?”

“Had whiskey dick last night,” chuckled Dean. “It wouldn’t move an inch. Man, even Kate Beckinsale couldn’t have gone for a ride.”

“Seems to be fine now,” replied Cas, trying to suppress a smile. 

“Whatcha think, buddy,” grinned Dean, patting the bed as an invitation, “help a guy out?”

“I can and I will,” he said as he ducked out of the room for a moment to grab a bottle of aspirin. Tossing it to Dean, he also passed him a half empty water bottle that had been sitting on the dresser. “There,” he said with a sly grin, “I’ve helped you out.”

“Really Cas? You gonna leave me like this?” pouted Dean. And then, in the same instant, his face rearranged into a look of surprise as he said, “Wait, is he still here?”

“Who?” asked Cas, not even sure what Dean was talking about.

“Mick, that’s who. Is he still here?”

“No,” Cas answered slowly, wondering why Dean would even ask when Mick had never spent the night at their house before.

“Oh,” replied Dean, visibly relaxing into the bed. “I saw you take him upstairs last night… never saw him come back down. I thought -

“It’s over.”

“You broke up?”

“I don’t know that we were ever really going out,” admitted Cas, “but yes, it’s over.”

“You okay?” Dean asked, sitting up a bit.

“Yes, Dean, I’m fine. It was my decision.”

“Sorry I tried to getcha to suck me off when, well, sorry. I’m a tool sometimes.”

“You are a tool,” grinned Cas. “But I could use a distraction,” he added, letting his eyes wander down to Dean’s groin.

“Hey man,” joked Dean, “whatever you need, I’m here for ya.”

With that said, Cas put his knee to Dean’s mattress and crawled into the bed with him. He knew it wasn’t smart; wasn’t good for him. But he mentally damned the consequences to hell and slid his body down next to Dean’s. Together they worked Dean’s elastic waisted boxers down over his huge tent pole and maneuvered his dick out into the room. Licking his lips as he looked at it, Cas moved to take it into his mouth while Dean reclined back and folded his arms behind his head on the pillow. 

“So fuckin’ good,” mumbled Dean as Cas set to work. 

Giving his full attention to Dean’s body, Cas forgot about his own. He bathed his man in pleasure, building him up towards an orgasm and then slowing back down when he got close. Several times he repeated this until Dean was practically begging to come. Blowing his friend enthusiastically, Cas eventually pulled his knees up under himself so he could lean in over Dean’s body and really put some power behind his bobbing head. That’s when he felt Dean’s hands on him. 

Until now, Dean had only put his hands to Castiel in reciprocation. But this time, Dean’s hand was on Cas  _ before _ he came, his palm sliding up and down Cas’s bare back as he impaled himself on Dean’s cock. 

That hand soon began to drift lower too, grazing over the curve of Cas’s ass. A few moments later, Cas’s breath hitched and his body shuddered as he felt Dean’s hand slipping inside his sleep pants. Fuck. Before he could help himself, his back was arched and his ass was preening in the air just begging for more. 

Cas regretted the movement immediately, worried that it would make Dean feel weird. He didn’t want to remind his friend of the things he craved in bed. To his surprise though, Dean didn’t retract his hand. In fact, he clamped down on the meat of Cas’s ass and whispered, “Ho-ly shit. You’d let me if I wanted to, wouldn’t ya? You’d actually let me fuck you.”

Castiel froze.

“M’not askin’ Cas,” reassured Dean. “I just, well, I’ve never done that. I ask ‘em all,” he chuckled, “but that’s not one that’s eagerly agreed to.”

Pulling his mouth off of Dean’s dick but not looking at the man, Cas said, “Stick your finger in it.”

“What?”

“The girls...” clarified Cas gruffly, hating the direction this conversation had taken, “...if you want them to let you in the back door, then just put your finger up there while you’re fucking them. Do that a few times and they’ll come around.”

“Really?”

“Well, do it gently, but yes. Trust me.” Then, as he bent back down to put his mouth on Dean again, he chuckled darkly and said, “Wait, did I just give sex advice to the legendary Dean Winchester?”

“We’ll see,” goaded Dean, giving Cas a playful swat on the ass. “I’ll try it out and get back to ya on whether it was good advice or not.”

The mood had begun to fizzle out for Cas once the subject of girls had come up. But he was able to pull himself back into it as he and Dean got back to business. The fact that Dean had taken to running his hand up and down Cas’s flank helped a lot, as did the occasional squeeze to his ass cheek. But honestly, the man’s moaning and groaning was the biggest aphrodisiac. 

As Dean built towards his end, Cas also became more and more aroused. 

When Dean finally came, Cas was achingly hard and his body was thrumming with desire. Not wanting Dean to see how wrecked he really was, Cas turned to get up from the bed. But Dean surprised him in that moment, pulling him down into the sheets and rolling him over without a word. 

Cas gulped in a breath, astonished, as he felt Dean jerk his pants down and press his body against Cas’s back side. Dean’s cock was still half hard, sticky with cum, and pressing against his bare cheeks. Then, to add to Cas’s bliss, Dean reached around to stroke him. Cas could feel the essence of Dean’s manhood pressed against his ass and it was so wildly erotic that he had to bite his lip to keep foolish things from slipping out of his mouth. Even as Dean softened behind him, Cas could still feel him and he came embarrassingly fast. 

They laid together for a few minutes, both with their cotton bottoms still shoved down around their thighs, neither moving as their breathing leveled out. Castiel couldn’t believe how long Dean was letting it go on. But, eventually, he slipped away to the shower with a murmured, “Thanks, Cas.”

Later that day, the two climbed into Dean’s car with their bags and holiday gifts, setting out for Lawrence. Road trips with Dean were always fun, and this one was no exception. It was, however, over way too soon. Despite their extended stop at a pool hall just outside of Kansas City, it wasn’t even midnight when Dean dropped Cas off at his family home. 

The Novaks lived in a spacious and extravagant area near the golf course in West Lawrence. Dean’s place wasn’t far, but then again, nothing in Lawrence was far. 

A few miles away, between the hospital and the turnpike, was Dean’s house. It looked pretty enough from the street, quaint and charming, but in terms of real-estate value it wasn’t much to brag about. The small neighborhood surrounding it encroached on a questionable trailer park, which could be easily seen from Dean’s front porch. Though the 70’s era ranch had likely been a wonderful ‘first house’ for Dean’s parents when they’d been young, it had grown dilapidated over the years, with only men under its roof and no mother around to make up ‘honey do’ lists. 

Cas knew that his friend would likely spend a lot of his holiday tending to things his father should be doing and he felt a pang of pity as he watched Dean pull out of his driveway.  

If there was one common denominator for all of Castiel’s visits back home, it was the slow passage of time. Unwilling to make waves, Cas did all that was expected of him. However, when his presence wasn’t required for anything, he usually disappeared to his room. From there, he kept in touch with his friends via networking apps and devoted the majority of his time to avoiding his parents in any way possible. 

Gabriel had stayed in California rather than come home, but Anna was dutifully here. She, much like Cas, spent a great deal of time sequestered in her room, though he had no idea what she might be doing in there. She came out on Christmas Eve, though, dressed to impress. As they did every year, the Novaks took a car service over to Zachariah Adler’s house for ‘ _ the _ party of the season’. Cas counted his time there as the longest three hours of the year… and that’s from someone taking both organic and inorganic chemistry. 

So, shortly after midnight when Cas’s phone vibrated in the pocket of his suit coat, he was thrilled to bring up the home screen and see a new message from Dean. Opening it, Cas smiled. Warmth bloomed in his chest as he read the message.

_ Merry Christmas. Miss ya buddy. _

Christmas day was spent at his grandmother's estate in the Sunset Hill area of Kansas City. It was pretentious and mind numbingly boring, but at least it represented the halfway point. Much like Wednesdays, this was the quintessential hump day of his time at home for the holidays. Dean picked him up on New Year’s Eve and the two headed into the city to hit up some bars and get hammered. Dean wound up a with a black eye and three hundred bucks, both earned by using Cas as an unwitting accomplice in hustling pool. 

At closing time, Castiel drove them home because Dean was far too drunk to get behind the wheel. Most of the drive was spent with Dean’s head tipped back on the bench seat, bloody kleenex stuffed up his nose. 

“Sorry ‘bout tonight,” he grumbled morosely, looking over at Cas from the passenger seat.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a genuine smile. “It’s the most fun I’ve had since we got back here.”

“Oh yeah,” chuckled Dean, “I bring it.”

“You certainly keep things interesting.”

“You stayin?” Dean asked tentatively, “Or were you gonna head home ‘n jus bring my baby back tomorrow?”

“I’d rather stay,” admitted Cas.

“Well c’mon in then,” said Dean as he hoisted himself out of the car. Cas followed and as they walked to the front door, he reached out and dropped the keys into Dean’s hand. 

“Ya can’t sleep in my room,” said Dean as they prepared to step inside. “I mean… we can’t, ya know… ‘cause my dad… he wouldn’t get it… he’d fuckin’ blow a gasket…”

“I understand, Dean,” nodded Cas.

With things settled, they walked inside. Cas waited in the darkened living room while Dean went to search out a pillow and blanket. When he returned, Dean flicked on a lamp. With the area lit up, Cas could see the living room clearly. It looked just like he remembered. Dark paneling and a couch upholstered in orange, yellow, and brown plaid. The television set was new, a flat screen, and beneath it glowed the tiny orange lights of a dormant gaming system. 

“M’glad your here, Cas,” whispered Dean with a crooked smile. Then he thumped Cas’s shoulder in a friendly gesture of solidarity and headed off down the hall to his own room.

New Year’s Day dawned to the sound and smell of bacon frying. As he came fully awake, Cas remained on the couch and listened to Dean and his younger brother as they bantered back and forth in the adjacent kitchen. Cas eventually rose and shared breakfast with the brothers, enjoying the chance to visit with Sam again. The boy had shot up this past year, having grown several inches since the last time he and Cas had seen each other. He jabbered away about his senior year, the girl he’d been dating, and his plans for college. He’d already been accepted to Stanford pending verification of his final transcripts. Dean was as proud as a peacock as he talked of Sammy’s scholarship and financial aid package. It wasn’t until John Winchester staggered out of his bedroom that things got tense. Shortly after, Dean excused himself to take Cas home and brought Sam along for the ride. 

“See you day after tomorrow,” said Dean when Cas was getting out of the car.

To Dean’s brother in the backseat, Cas said, “It was great seeing you again, Sam, and congratulations on Stanford.” 

In the final day of Cas’s holiday back home, his father brought up the discussion of transferring to better school no less than three times. Cas managed to hold his own without Gabe around to inspire sedition and was quite pleased with himself.

If anything, his father’s pressure was having the opposite effect that the man intended. Because at this point, Cas was considering dropping out of the pre-med program. Changing his major was tempting. The doctor thing had always been more his family’s dream than his own. 

When he and Dean finally rolled back onto campus, Cas could have wept for how much he’d missed the place. Dean seemed every bit as elated to be back.They still had a few days before classes would start up, so a party seemed inevitable. 

This one was far less extravagant than the one they’d hosted after finals, but many of Cas’s friends from QA dropped by for it. Charlie came and Cas was surprised to see a new girl on her arm.

“This is Gilda,” she said by way of introduction.

“What happened to Dorothy?” whispered Cas when they had a moment alone.

“She went to go find herself,” replied Charlie with an eyeroll. 

“Find herself?”

“Yep. She ‘found herself’ in bed with someone else.”

Charlie’s upbeat personality never seemed to falter, and tonight proved to be no exception. Gilda seemed very charmed by the red-head’s sense of humor and generally positive outlook on life. 

Sadly, as he chatted with the girls, Cas could see Dean across the room. He was working over a new girl… feeding her all his best lines. She was a real spit-fire though, even from a distance, he could see it. Her jet black hair, visible tramp stamp, and tall black boots made her look equal parts sexy and tough. 

For a moment he’d almost thought she was going to shoot down the great Dean Winchester, but in the end she went for him, like they all did. Cas worked hard not to watch as she was led by the hand into Dean’s room, but as his door shut, a chorus of lude shouts went up from their mutual friends. Over the years, he’d gotten used to keeping a poker face firmly in place at these moments. But something must’ve shown on his face, or perhaps Charlie was just very perceptive, but when their eyes met she leveled him with a look. There was no question in his mind when… she knew.

Leaning into his ear so as not to be overheard, she softly asked, “Did I just see what I think I saw?” 

His walls came down in that moment and he lost his will to try and deceive or deflect. “Don’t say it,” he sighed pitifully, “I can’t stand to hear it tonight.”

“Okay,” she agreed begrudgingly, “but, let’s get outta here.”

“You’re leaving?” he asked her, glancing over at Gilda.

“Yes,” she grinned enthusiastically, “but we’re taking you with us. You need a distraction.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he replied. 

“We’re goin’ over to Chumley’s,” she announced, referring to the gay bar they’d been to on Halloween. “There’s bound to be a suitable ‘distraction’ there.” A clever wink and a smile punctuated her words and based on the grin Gilda was wearing, Cas wasn’t the only who recognized that her intention was to find him a hook up.

Leaving his own party had felt kind of weird, but  he welcomed the distraction that his friends were promising him. Distraction, as it turned out, wasn’t hard to find. Winding his way through the club with the girls as his ‘wing men’ for the evening, Cas soon found himself wrapped in the arms of a sinfully attractive stranger whose name he either didn’t catch or couldn’t remember. Oh well, the name he’d been given was likely fake anyway. But with an ass like that? Who cared. Some dirty dancing and a tantalizing grope in the bathroom had Cas feeling adequately ‘distracted’. 

On the way back to his place, Cas found himself thanking the girls profusely for getting him out. If not for them, he’d have likely spent the night in a melancholy mood with one eye on Dean’s door the entire time. 

When he was dropped off at home, he found that the party had died down. The music was no longer blaring and there were only a few people left. A small group was still playing drinking games at the table and someone Cas didn’t know was passed out in the broken recliner. Benny Lafitte and Ronald Resnick were playing video games on the couch, both hammered and shouting obscenities at one another. Both men were football players with a bigger build, but Ronald was a lineman - lumbering and unapologetic. Between them, they took up the entire sofa. Cas had seen Dean squeeze between these guys before, but he preferred to simply perch on the arm of the sofa as he lingered to make small talk with them for a while. 

Dean’s door was still closed and no one spoke of his conquest, so there was no way for Cas to know if she was still in there with him or not. Unable to broach the subject without being obvious, Cas begged off for the night and went upstairs trying not to wonder if Dean was alone behind his door or not.

Cas spent the next week adjusting to the changes that this new semester brought. His classes were largely the same, though he had a new professor to get used to and the time slot for his Friday class had changed. Dean’s schedule changed with the new term as well, and that meant that if Cas wanted a ride to class on Mondays and Wednesdays, he had to leave early and find something to do while he waited for his first class to start. For the first week, Cas chose to walk rather than leave early. But then, the third week in January, the first real blizzard hit. Classes were cancelled on Tuesday of that week due to the storm, but this snow day was far less fun than the last had been. For starters he and Dean weren’t alone together this time. The living room had been full of boisterous friends when the flurries had started and after that, no one had wanted to leave. Least of all Pam. 

Cas had gotten to know her a bit since she’d bedded down with Dean at their party over the holiday break. As a policy, he usually tried to find something to hate about all of Dean’s girls. But it was harder with Pam. She was fun, as much as he hated to admit it, and she kept him perpetually off-kilter by flip flopping back and forth between blatantly flirting with him, even in front of Dean, and trying to fix him up with her best friend. 

Pam’s best friend was hot as fuck. His name was Tommy and he was in a band that played shitty dives near campus. Tommy had an updated version of a skaters flop haircut, several sexy piercings, and a penchant for skinny jeans with clunky boots. He was a guitar player so his fingernails were cut back, beyond short, and his fingertips were calloused and hard. They tickled when touching lightly and they scratched when gripping tightly. Cas knew this because Tommy was handsy when he was drunk.  

During the blizzard, Pam spent two days and two nights at their place without leaving. And both nights, she’d professed that it was too bad Tommy wasn’t there… otherwise they could’ve had a wild foursome. More than anything, Cas wondered what Dean’s reaction to that suggestion would have been. But, he’d been far too terrified to look over at his friend when the subject came up. So, sadly, he was clueless as to whether Dean had laughed it off, waggled his eyebrows jokingly, or maybe, just maybe, paused in thoughtful consideration. 

Regardless, for the duration of campus being shut down, their place was full of people. When classes resumed and the house finally cleared, there was a huge mess to clean up and they were out of absolutely everything. Even toilet paper.

In the three weeks following that snowstorm there were two more. The snow in their yard was at least eighteen inches deep and the easy joking about whose turn it was to shovel the driveway had turned to bickering. Not one for simply taking turns, Dean often insisted on rock-paper-scissors as the method for determining who had to bundle up and go out in the cold. The number of visitors to their house dropped sharply as the weather remained intolerable day after day… windy and freezing cold. Even Pam wasn’t coming around regularly, though she did occasionally swing by. She’d stayed the night only once this past week, and Cas hated that he kind of missed having her around. By extension, he also missed Tommy, and that was equally surprising. 

Despite Pam’s efforts, Tommy had never put the moves on Cas in any tangible way. He seemed to instinctively know that Castiel wasn’t really the one-nighter type, and thus never really made a genuine attempt to seduce him. But, if there was a gay counterpart to Dean Winchester, Tommy was it. He got around. Unapologetically. He was flirtatious and fun and when he was around, he put his hands on Cas freely - the way a lover would. It was perfectly normal for the guy to pat Cas’s ass when he passed by him, throw an arm around him when they sat next to each other, rest his hand on Cas’s hip, even peck him on the cheek from time to time. It was just his way. 

Though these things were far from unpleasant, Cas loved them because he loved watching Dean see them. 

And Dean did see. Cas knew his friend far too well to miss the way his eyes zeroed in on Tommy when he took liberties. For the most part, Dean’s face didn’t display any reaction other than to simply notice. But, even that was  _ something _ . There had even been a few times where Dean’s face had shown unconcealed irritation. 

As of today, Monday the tenth of February, Cas hadn’t seen either Pam or Tommy in four solid days. At present, Dean was pacing the living room as Cas quizzed him in preparation for the Economics test he’d be taking tomorrow morning. 

“Enough already,” barked Dean roughly, “I’ve fuckin’ had it, Cas.”

“Alright, let’s break for dinner,” agreed Cas, rising from the couch. 

Practically bolting from the room, Dean headed for the kitchen and called over his shoulder, “I’ll make it.”

Cas smiled and took the opportunity to head upstairs and do some of his own work. Dean seemed to enjoy cooking, especially things he knew someone else really liked. When the scent of frying hamburgers drifted up into his room, Cas knew that this meal would be Dean’s way of thanking Cas for his help… even if he was too proud to actually say the words. 

As he worked through his paper on acid-base balance for A&P, Cas tried to keep his mind on the subject matter. But it wasn’t easy with his stomach gnawing at him while his every breath drew in the scent of sizzling meat. Dropping his pen and snapping the lid of his laptop shut, Cas pushed back from his desk and headed downstairs, unwilling to wait any longer. Just as he was reaching the bottom of the steps, he heard Dean hollar that the food was ready. 

They tucked in with hamburgers and frozen french fries that Dean had made on a pizza pan in the broiler. 

“This is really good,” purred Cas between bites. 

“I buttered the buns and fried them in the grease,” replied Dean, helping himself to more fries. 

“What’s the sauce?”

“I just mixed ketchup, mayo, and steak sauce.”

“Really, really, good,” he praised.

“M’glad. I’ll make it again sometime. S’pretty good on the fries too,” Dean added.

“Pam coming over this weekend?”

A note of uncertainty tinged Dean’s voice as he replied, “Dunno.”  He appeared to give the matter some thought as he chewed and swallowed. Then, after taking a drink and setting down his Coke, Dean said, “Honestly, I haven’t heard much from her lately. Wonder what’s up with that.”

“Would you like to review a little more after supper?”

With an apathetic shrug, Dean said, “Couldn’t hurt.” 

The next night, Dean cooked again. He seemed lighter, almost celebratory, as he knocked about the kitchen. 

“What are we having?” Cas asked him, leaning in the doorway.

“Lasagna.”

“I take it the test went well?”

“Yep. I mean, I dunno my grade yet, but it felt like I did okay.”

“I’m sure you did.”

“How’d it go finishing your paper?”

“It wasn’t so bad,” said Cas. “Honestly, A&P is a snap compared to O-Chem.”

“It’s all greek to me, buddy,” grinned Dean, “like most everything in school. I got looks. Sammy got the brains..”

“How’s he doing anyway?” Cas asked, his mind wandering to Dean’s brother.

“He seems to be doin’ alright. I talked to him over the weekend. Must be gettin’ excited for college, it’s pretty much all he talks about.”

“Who can blame him?” chuckled Cas. “Valentine’s day is coming up. Did he mention it? Say anything about a girl or a date?”

“No. When is it?”

“Friday.”

“Shit.”

“Will you be doing something with Pam?”

“I s’pose I better think of somethin’. I mean, V-day’s not really my thing. But Pam’s pretty awesome. Don’t wanna blow it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you spend Valentine’s with anyone,” mused Cas, trying to think back on their past.

“Nope,” agreed Dean, “I usually prefer to swoop in on someone unattached at the last minute. That gets me out of havin’ to actually do anything… and whoever I wind up with is usually so grateful that they put in some extra effort, if ya know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I think I get it,” laughed Cas, stepping back out of the doorway. Sensing the direction this conversation was taking, Cas figured it was better to make an exit. Besides, lasagna would take Dean a while and he could get some homework done while he waited. 

In his room, Cas settled in at his desk and got to work on something simple that he knew he could finish in about an hour - his assigned reading for Government. With a highlighter in hand, he began by looking over the headers for each section, skimming for words in bold and only stopping for ones he wasn’t immediately certain of within the context of the chapter. 

Hearing footfalls on the steps, Cas looked up from his textbook just in time to see Dean appear in his doorway. 

“It can’t have been an hour already.”

“An hour?”

“Doesn’t lasagna cook for like an hour?”

“Guess so,” shrugged Dean as he entered. “I just put it in the oven. So, yeah, it’ll be awhile.”

It seemed like it would be rude to ask Dean what he wanted; but clearly he wanted something. He rarely came upstairs. 

Cas watched his friend saunter in, peering out the window for a moment before flopping down on the bed. 

“Something on your mind, Dean?”

“Not really.”

Uncertain what to say, Cas returned his eyes to his book. He didn’t read, just sat there wondering what was going on with his friend. Minutes ticked by, neither speaking. Eventually, Cas’s attention actually did fall back to the words on the page, the stiff silence between them eventually evolving into a comfortable one.

“Hey, Cas?”

The words on the page fell away as Dean said his name, but Cas didn’t look up. Intuition told him that whatever Dean wanted to talk about was going to be easier for both of them if their eyes didn’t have to meet. “Yes, Dean?” 

“Has Pam said anything to you about me?”

“Nothing of consequence,” he said firmly. “I haven’t even spoken to her since we went to see Tommy play last week. Why?”

“I dunno. I just haven’t heard much from her lately. I texted her after you mentioned V-day but I haven’t heard back yet.”

“Do you feel like something’s wrong?”

“Maybe. Who knows, right?”

“You really like her.”

“I guess. She’s the best one I’ve had in awhile.”

“I would agree.”

Cas could hear the creaking of his bed when Dean rolled over onto his side. His friend exhaled a long sigh and said, “She’s done with me Cas. I can tell.”

“How so?”

“Well, she’s just not excited to hear from me anymore. I didn’t realize it was happening until just now. But now that I think about it, she’s been slippin’. I mean, it’s no big deal, I guess. I’m just not used to bein’ the one who gets cut from the hook and thrown back.”

“She might just be busy.”

“She’s busy alright. She’s found someone new. I know the signs.”

Finally looking up from his book, Cas looked over at his friend. “Like what?”

“Well, like I said, not answering my messages right away is a big one. But now I remember that when we were at the show, she ran into some guy she hadn’t seen in a long damn time… Jesse. Remember?”

“Yes, but I don’t necessarily -

“It’s him. I know it is.”

“What’s him?”

“He’s the reason. He’s the one she’s excited about now, not me.”

Regardless of how much he wished that Dean weren’t pining for someone else, Cas couldn’t help but feel a sympathetic ache for his friend. He sought to reassure. “You know,” he said in a firm voice, “a wise man once said that worrying is just borrowing on pain you don’t own yet.”

With that said, Dean dropped his head to the pillow and sighed again. “Can I get that knitted on a pillow, Cas?”

Both of them chuckled softly, Dean looking at the ceiling now, and Cas looking at Dean. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, Cas, there is,” he answered, turning to set those piercing green eyes on him. For a moment, it was as if all the air had been sucked out of the room and suddenly, Cas knew why Dean was up here. Recognition must’ve shown on his face because Dean pushed up on one elbow without breaking eye contact. “Distract me?”

For Cas, the sentiment was familiar. When seeking distraction, what people really want is relief. In much the same way one takes aspirin for a headache, distraction is taken for heartache. Able to deny his friend nothing, Cas nodded his agreement and stood from his chair. As he crossed the wide gulf of space between them, he reached up and pulled the cord that dangled from his ceiling fan to turn off the overhead light. For his own sake, Cas pretended that he simply preferred the harsh lights be off for this. But it was hard to fully ignore that he’d also done it so that Dean wouldn’t have to see his distraction coming in the form of a man. 

“It’s too quiet,” whispered Dean as Cas approached. Without a word, he veered off course and put on some music. 

“Thanks.”

With a nod, Cas eased himself down on the bed. As he lowered his weight to the mattress, he put a hand on Dean’s hip and rolled his friend gently away. Scooting up behind him, Cas wordlessly laced his arm around Dean’s waist and cautiously began working Dean’s button and zipper down. 

“Cas?” whispered Dean.

“Hmm?”

“What would you be doing right now if I wasn’t straight?”

His hand went still as he said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Dean’s hand came to rest on top of Cas’s for a beat and then Cas felt his hand being pulled away from Dean’s fly. Cas thought his friend looked thoughtful, or perhaps cautious, as he turned to face him. “I mean," he clarified, "if I was gay, what would you be doing with me?”

“Are you asking me if I’m a bottom or a top?”

“Um, no, Cas,” chuckled Dean, “but now that you mention it… I’m kinda curious. Which are you?.”

“I’m both.”

“You have a preference?”

“It depends,” said Cas vaguely, uncertain how much he was even willing to tell.

“I’m just tryin’ to figure out,” clarified Dean, “what would be normal for you. ‘Cause I know that this, what we’re doin’, it ain’t normal. I mean, for you. I remember the first time - you said you didn’t know what to do because we weren’t kissing. And I get it… the kissing… it usually comes first. So, yeah, skipping that part is kinda weird.”

“I’ve gotten used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“I understand Dean. If you’re feeling guilty, you don’t need to.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Wordlessly, Castiel nodded. He waited though, because it seemed like Dean had something else he wanted to say. When nothing came, and they were just sitting there staring at each other, Cas prompted his friend by saying his name. “Dean?”

“I wanna loosen up,” he sighed. “I just don’t know how.”

“You might be thinking too hard,” smiled Cas warmly. 

“Never been accused of that before,” chuckled Dean, obviously going for a laugh. 

Suddenly feeling very clear and very sure of himself, Cas said, “Okay, Dean, I think I get what you’re trying to say. This,” he gestured back and forth between them with his finger, “this isn’t much of a distraction if we’re clinically working to get each other off. And, trust me, that’s not what’s normal for me. So, I’m going to try and forget that you’re straight. I’m going to treat you like anyone else, with the obvious exception of kissing. You can just, you know, say ‘uncle’ if I accidently make you uncomfortable.”

“Sounds good,” nodded Dean with a slight smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 

Having been given permission, Cas was ready. He was going to do whatever the hell he wanted… with Dean. And, he was going to let himself enjoy it.

Eager now, he sat up and mounted Dean like a horse. Straddling Dean’s thighs, Cas bent his neck, this time letting himself watch as he put his hands on Dean’s fly. Carefully, he pulled out Dean’s flaccid cock, smiling as he felt it start to chub up a bit in his hand. 

Letting go momentarily, he put both hands to the waist of Dean’s jeans and tugged them down, underwear and all, crawling backwards as he did until he was near the foot of the bed. Dean bent his knees and pulled his legs up so Cas could drag his pants all the way off. Then, Cas began moving back up the bed. He went slowly, dipping his head down to run his tongue along Dean’s shin. His bowed legs were hairy so pausing every few inches to re-wet his tongue was necessary. Working steadily upwards, he bumbled over the knee before licking up a thick thigh muscle. The taste of Dean’s salty skin propelled Cas’s body into a state of salacious yearning and he wanted more.

Leaving a moist trail all the way up to Dean’s groin, Cas buried his face in the man’s bush and began laving kisses and long licks along the shaft as he passed over. Then, working his way higher, Cas tickled teasingly over his friends stomach on his way to nipples. When at last he latched onto one, he sought out the other with his fingertips. As he suckled at Dean’s nub, it hardened in his mouth and the other did the same as Cas rolled it between his fingers. 

“Yessss,” whispered Dean softly from above. Then, out of nowhere, there were hands on Cas. They weren’t tentative hands, they were eager hands. With nimble fingers, Dean untucked Cas’s shirt from his pants and began tugging it up and off.

Encouraged, Cas pushed his hand down between Dean’s legs as he continued to lick, suck, and nibble at Dean’s chest. He traced the wide square of his friends pectoral muscle with his tongue and then returned to suck feverishly at the nipple again. 

Coming up for air, Cas sat back and saw that Dean was grinning widely. It was impossible not to match the man’s smile. Putting his hands to Dean’s cock, Cas found it engorged now, standing up straight. He alternated hands, gripping with one and sliding it from base to tip before clamping the other to the base and repeating. Instead of stroking up and down, he was only pulling up, up, up. Under him, Dean groaned approval. 

“This would feel a whole lot better with some lube,” he said, so relaxed now that he forgot to feel weird about using the word ‘lube’ with his straight friend. Dean didn’t bat an eye though. He just looked at Cas expectantly - as though it should appear in his hand. 

“Can you reach it?” he asked, still stroking the man’s fattened dick. “It’s in the drawer.”

It seemed to take a second for the words to sink in, but eventually, Dean got it. Cas could tell by the smirk. 

Dean turned his upper body to the side, not disturbing Cas from his perch as he reached over and fumbled into the drawer for slick.

“Dude,” exclaimed Dean, “What the…”

Cas’s sex addled mind was slow and so was his reaction time. He’d completely forgotten all the other items that were nestled into the top drawer of his nightstand. What had Dean found?

“Man,” marveled Dean, “I never knew… never even thought that you had one of these. But the fact that it’s pink just blows my mind.” 

“Fuck,” hissed Cas as he watched Dean pull out his vibrator.

He was embarrassed, but he was also a little angry at being made to feel embarrassed. “It was on sale,” he retorted, reaching out to snatch the offending item away from his friend. 

Fully laughing now, Dean gasped out, “that only… makes it… more fu-funny.”

Cas knew that Dean was never going to forget this. Even if he threw the fucking thing away right now, Cas would never hear the end of it; Dean would be teasing him until his dying day. 

“Give me that,” he fumed, reaching out to snatch it away. 

“Oh shit,” Dean cackled as it was pulled from his hand. He immediately made a grab for it and Cas retracted his hand defensively to keep possession of it, eventually holding it up over his head so it would be out of his friends reach. As he did, Cas gave it a twist to turn it on. 

The buzzing sound that suddenly filled the room seemed to make Dean laugh even harder. Tears were leaking from the corners of his eyes. Cas dismounted Dean’s thighs and settled at his side near the man’s waist. Holding the toy in his right hand, he continued to keep it out of Dean’s reach. Then, despite Dean’s laughter, he bent down to start sucking dick again. This time, he wasn’t soft and teasing. He swallowed the man down as far as he could go and let that rounded tip bump the back of his throat. Opening wider and locking his neck, Cas bobbed a couple times, letting Dean’s length push its way into his throat. It hurt, but just the right amount of pain to swell his own cock, which hung heavily between his legs now.. 

Dean’s laughing fit came to an abrupt end as Cas brought the pink, plastic toy to the vee of his man’s legs. It bumped balls and rested only a split second before Dean cried out, “Uncle! Uncle!”

Immediately, Cas pulled off of Dean. He sat up and turned the toy completely off. 

“Holy fuck, Cas.”

“I thought you’d like it,” he admitted softly. “I mean, I’ve never had anyone  _ not _ like it. Ever.”

“I-I did like it,” admitted Dean, relaxing into the pillow. “I mean, m’not sayin’ I want you to shove the thing up my ass, but what you did, well, I liked it.”

“Do it again?” tried Cas timidly.

“Okay.”

Smiling warmly now, happy that Dean seemed willing to push past the momentary panic, Cas turned it back on at the lowest setting. Then, he carefully lifted Dean’s balls and laid the vibrator directly on the man’s taint. “Mmm,” purred Dean.

Thrilled, Cas gently set down the man’s balls, letting them rest atop the buzzing toy. Then, as Dean sighed and gave himself over, Cas bent down to blow him. Gradually, as he varied the pressure and rhythm of his mouth, Cas progressed the vibrator up to it’s next speed. 

“Fuck,” cursed Dean, his hands clenching at the sheets. “Fuck, Cas, fuck!”

Pulling the sensation away, Cas rearranged his limbs so that he could return to Dean’s perfect chest. He teased at Dean’s left nipple with his tongue and then laid the vibrator on his right. In response, Dean’s body arched up off the mattress. 

Impassioned, Castiel began nibbling urgently at the hardened nub while he moved the viberator down and pressed it to the tip of Dean’s penis for a beat. Then, when Dean cried out again, Cas pulled the toy away and scuttled down the bed. Positioning himself between Dean’s bowed legs, he said, “...the lube, Dean.”

Dean passed it to him, giving him an uncertain look as he said, “You’re not gonna try and put that up my...

“No, of course not,” barked Cas roughly, “Relax, Winchester.”

Dean gave him a contrite half-smile and sheepishly adjusted his legs to make room. Cas smiled as he watched it happen - watched as Dean spread his legs trustingly. 

Cas leaned in and pressed the pink vibrator to Dean’s taint again. The moment it made contact, Dean gasped. A shudder ran through his body and as Cas watched it happen, he tried to keep from grinning triumphantly. It wasn’t easy. Dean’s eyes soon started drifting closed and he moaned a few times as Cas increased the speed and moved the wand around teasingly.

“This feeling,” said Cas as he continued, “is why men bottom. This is good, right?”

“Uhhggnn,” was all Dean seemed to be able to verbalize. His eyes were fully closed now and his head was tipped back, his entire body willingly offered up to Cas. The man’s thick cock was still shiny with Cas’s spit and dribbling liquid from it’s tip. 

“It gets even better Dean,” he promised, swept away in the moment. “So. Much. Better.”

With one hand still on the vibrator, Cas held the lube in his hand and flicked the cap open with his thumb. Then, holding the container over Dean’s swollen cock, Cas squeezed and watched hungrily as clear, viscous liquid drizzled down over the head, shaft, and balls. 

Tossing the container aside, he then wrapped his hand firmly around Dean’s cock. Sitting on his heels now, looking down at his friend’s groin, Cas kept the toy moving between Dean’s spread legs with one hand while his other hand began stroking the man’s dick skillfully. He built up pressure and speed, turning up the vibrations to match as he coaxed Dean towards an orgasm. Jacking Dean with his lube covered hand was creating an obscene squicking sound that could be heard over both the music and the buzzing toy.

If the mission, from Dean’s perspective, was to forget about being blown off by Pam… then mission accomplished. To look at Dean right now, no one would imagine there was anything on his mind other than chasing his pleasure. With spit slick lips open and panting, a flush of pink coloring his cheeks and heaving chest, hands fisted in the sheets, Dean was the very picture of a man lost in sexual gratification.  

Cas’s skilled hand continually taunted Dean’s heavy cock with more, only to back off when he got close. The man’s spread legs occasionally twitched and shook, and his hips canted to give more access as Cas kept the vibrations constantly changing. 

Right before he came, Dean took a deep breath and growled, “Dammit Cas, you’re gonna fuckin’ ruin me.”

_ Holy hell,  _ thought Cas, _ I sure hope so. _


	5. It's Not Gay Unless You Bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, Destiella is totally amazing. You guys will never know the levels embarrassment she's saving me with what she catches as she edits!

                                                             

 

When Dean came, he came hard. His body bucked and rolled and Cas’s hand slipped off of Dean’s shaft. He didn’t reach for it again, though, too caught up in watching as spatters of cum decorated his friends twitching stomach. As he stared down at Dean coming, Cas’s hands fumbled with the vibrator, trying to twist and turn it off. With one of his hands still covered in slick it wasn’t easy.  

Then, out of nowhere, Dean was dragging him down. Surprised and off balance, Cas was pulled towards Dean in one swift and disorienting movement. Before he could even catch his breath, Dean crashed their lips together.

Cas was stunned and slow to respond as his befuddled mind struggled to grasp the reality of what was happening. But, he soon began to understand and accept what was happening… Dean was kissing him. Really kissing him. An undignified noise formed in his mouth and was muted there by Dean’s lips.

When the realization finally sank in, Cas’s mind went completely blank. He gave himself over to the moment and relaxed into it. Dean’s tongue flicked against his lips and Cas parted them, moaning as he felt his friend’s tongue slide in alongside his own.

Being kissed by Dean was incredible - better than any fantasy he’d ever conjured. Dean kissed with his entire body and Castiel felt himself coming alive in a whole new way. It was as though a soft and glowing ember deep inside had suddenly roared to life, flames licking hotter as the fire spread through him. Every roll of hips, every flex of arm and leg, and every ragged breath against Cas’s cheek fueled his burning.

With his heart thudding heavily in his chest, Cas was gasping for breath each time they came up for air. But over and over, Dean plunged back in to plunder Cas’s mouth as though he’d been starving for it. When his lover pulled away, dropping his head to the pillow and drawing heavy breath, Cas rested his head on Dean’s bicep. In unison, the men exhaled an unsteadily on a nervous chuckle.

All Cas could think was, _I’ve never been kissed like that in my life._

Before he’d even fully recovered, Cas felt Dean’s hand begin to slide down his chest, over his stomach, and towards his groin. That heavy hand didn’t hesitate as it found Cas’s hardened dick and wrapped around it. Dean turned then, pressing his face into Cas’s neck as he stroked him without hesitation.

“Gimme some,” whispered Dean, and Cas had no idea what that meant until Dean’s hand abandoned it’s work on his shaft and grabbed Cas’s own sticky hand - the one that was still coated in lube. Understanding dawned and Cas turned his palm out so that Dean could slick his own with it. Dean then returned to jacking Cas, but now the slide of his hand was more languid and sensual.

With each pass, Dean picked up speed and squeezed a little tighter. Cas was elated, floating on a cloud of utter joy. He could still feel his friend’s breath on his neck and the occasional soft touch of lips to his feverish skin as he built steadily towards an orgasm under Dean’s hand.

In the moment when he felt his end rushing up on him, Cas took a deep breath and turned his face towards Dean, praying for one more real kiss. He was not disappointed. Their lips locked together firmly as Cas pulsed his release over Dean’s tight fist, and in the quiet moment afterwards, Dean’s lips grew soft and reassuring. He pecked twice more before pulling away, smiling as he retreated a bit to wipe up his hand.

There were many things he wanted to say to his friend at this moment. Sentiments and questions flooded his mind. But Cas deliberately shut them out. He let their comfortable silence last as both of them came down. He didn’t move; didn’t speak. More than anything he just didn’t want to ruin this… it had been so utterly perfect.

When Dean began to get up, Cas did too, both of them searching out their pants and hopping back into them. As he zipped up, Dean’s face broke into a wide smile.  

“You smellin’ that?” he asked.

Pausing to sniff the air, Cas suddenly remembered the lasagna that Dean had made. “Yes, and I’m so hungry,” he said as he pulled on a t-shirt.

“It should be about ready,” replied Dean, glancing at the clock on Cas’s nightstand.

They headed down to the kitchen where Cas watched his roommate serve up huge portions of the cheesy, meat-laden dish. Neither mentioned Pam’s possible departure from Dean’s life, but over the next week it became clear that she would not be returning. Two other girls came and went in quick succession, neither keeping him occupied for long, and all the while, winter was dragging on.

The days were short and blustery cold. QA had resumed and Castiel was back to attending the weekly meetings, though he and Mick hardly spoke anymore. Charlie’s advice had been to keep dating. Keep meeting people. Eventually, she said, he’d find someone who was able to get his mind off of his straight roommate. But then again, she didn’t know how things really were between him and Dean.

It was the second week of March when the gruelling winter weather finally broke. The reprieve lasted over a week, temperatures ascending into the mid-forties. The sky was sunny day after day and, as the snow melted, the dead brown grass came poking through. By the fourth day, there was hardly any white left.

Water pooled in the low places around campus and there was mud everywhere. It almost seemed like spring until the weather man started talking about the approach of another winter storm. The prediction was for a blizzard to hit the day after St. Patrick’s Day and everyone seemed to be talking about it. So, that friday when Dean picked him up after class, Cas said, “We should go to the store.”

“What for?” replied Dean as he put the car in drive.

“Everything. There’s a storm coming and I don’t want to be out of toilet paper again.”

“Good point,” agreed Dean. “Plus, if we’re gonna have a snow day, I wanna have some goodies around the house.”

“Should we just go now?” asked Cas, enjoying the breeze from his open window.

“Sure, Cas,”

Without a list or any preparation, the two of them abandoned their usual routine of drinking at the bar after class and went grocery shopping instead. As they pushed carts down the aisles, they tossed around the idea of a St. Paddy’s party at their house. But, when the task of making green beer was discussed, they wound up deciding to ‘leave that to the professionals’ and just spend their money at the bar.

When they’d finished at the grocery store, the two headed home with their purchases and got everything put away.

“I feel like makin’ burgers,” said Dean, as he pushed a few cans of soup onto the top shelf.

“Sounds good,” Cas replied. “Any chance of having bacon on them?”

“It’s like you can read my mind,” joked Dean.

As they moved around each other in their small kitchen, Cas enjoyed the way Dean’s hand often lingered at his waist when he’d lean around Cas to put something away in a cupboard. That kind of thing had been happening more and more lately - Dean touching him like a lover rather than a friend. His hand often rested on the small of Cas’s back or at his hip when they’d trade off using the bathroom sink in the mornings, a gentle push telling him when to slide to the left or right. A few times, he’d even put his arm around Cas’s shoulder as they’d settled in to watch television.  

Dean had always been one for elbowing and thigh slapping during video games, not just with Cas but with all their friends. Dean was both vocal and physical when he was playing. But lately, there had been been a few times when Dean had actually slapped Cas’s ass playfully when he rose from the couch after a game… and that was fucking new.

So was the kissing.

After that first kiss, which had seemed spontaneous, there had been more. Dean didn’t hesitate to kiss him these days when they fooled around. Honestly, between the affectionate way that Dean touched him now, and the increasing frequency of their sexual encounters, Cas could almost imagine that they were actually a couple. Well, if it weren’t for the occasional hook-up of Dean’s.

Those, sadly, were still going on regularly.

The thought of Dean with others pulled Cas from his warm reflections and soured his mood. Grabbing a trash bag and leaving the kitchen behind, Cas walked through the dinette and the living room gathering up the littering of empty cans and bottles, paper plates, and other trash. When the bag was full,  he tied it off and tossed it out onto the front porch. Next he began gathering dirty dishes and carrying them to the sink. The smell of hamburgers frying filled the air and Dean was contentedly dropping slices of bacon into a skillet when Cas bellied up to the sink to wash dishes.

By the time dinner was ready, Cas had the place whipped into shape. Leaving the last few dishes in the sink to soak, Cas followed Dean to the living room when prompted, each of them carrying their plate and a soda. The TV was on, but neither of them paid it any attention while gorging on Dean’s burgers.

After eating, both leaned back on the couch contentedly for a few minutes to let their food settle. As they lingered there, it was decided that they’d head over to The Jug for the remainder of the evening. Shortly after that, Dean got up and carried their plates to the sink.

Dean rarely did any housework without prompting, but Cas had noticed that his friend was more inclined to put in the effort if the place had just recently been cleaned. Cas leaned in the doorway to watch as Dean put away the clutter he’d left on the counter while cooking and dropped the used pans into the dishwater.

“Ya got anything green on?” Dean asked jokingly as he turned towards Cas.

“Umm-

“Nope,” he laughed, “ya don’t.”

“I-

Still laughing, his roommate cut him off. “You’re a shitty liar, Cas, don’t even bother.” Then, Dean reached around him and pinched his ass.

“Fuck!” he cursed, shoving Dean away.

“Hey, man, I’m jus’ tryin’ to help ya out. The ladies will be doin’ it all night. Don’tcha have a green t-shirt or somethin?”

“I don’t know,” he managed, rubbing his bum as he tried to think over his wardrobe. Dean was wearing a ‘Kiss Me I’m Irish’ t-shirt. Cas sighed and pushed away from the door jamb. As he headed towards the stairs, intent on finding something more appropriate for the outing, he wheeled on Dean and reached around to retaliate. Sinking his thumb and pointer finger into the soft flesh of Dean’s side, he pinched hard with an uninhibited grin on his face.

“The fuck?” barked Dean roughly. “Dude. I’m wearing green!”

“I don’t give a fuck,” laughed Cas, pivoting to keep his eyes on Dean as he backed away. “You deserve it, you smug bastard.”

When they finally piled into the Impala, Cas was wearing a green button down shirt. It was far dressier than he’d normally wear to the bar, but it would do. Many of their friends were already here and the place was even more crowded and chaotic than usual. St. Patrick’s Day was officially on Saturday, but already there were green streamers hung from the ceiling and shamrocks dangling, spinning on nearly invisible string. The entire weekend would likely be one long party.

“Damn,” chuckled Dean as they paid their cover and entered the bar, “it’s nuts to butts in here.”

Cas chuckled at his friend as they headed to the bar. Greeting people they knew as they went, the two stepped up to the bar and overpaid for huge plastic mugs filled with green tinted beer. Then they began to circulate.

It didn’t take long for their various groups of friends to separate them and Cas hardly noticed it as he was carried from one conversation to another. As the hours passed, Cas drank and laughed along when others pointed out his green tongue and showed him theirs.

When his bladder kicked in for the first time, he was with Tessa, his lab partner and occasional coffee date. They’d been talking for a few minutes, watching the drunken antics of those on the dancefloor, and Cas was about to excuse himself to the restroom when a pushy guy from their class shoved his way between them and began overstepping boundaries with Tess.

When he saw the look on her face, Cas knew an intervention was needed. Not waiting for an official distress signal from her, he shouldered his way between the two and tried to create some distance without pissing the guy off.

It didn’t work. The asshole, who’s name Cas couldn’t even remember at the moment, turned on him and told him to fuck off.

In response, Tessa’s eyes turned stone cold. “Look Cole,” she said firmly, giving Cas the name he’d forgotten. “I’m with Cas tonight and I’d like you to leave.”

Without missing a beat, the douchebag replied, “Don’t waste your time. Everybody knows he’s a fag.”

In the back of his mind, Castiel was aware that he was alone. Sure, he had friends at the bar, but were any of them nearby? Probably not. Lacking backup, however, didn’t slow his hand as it reached for the man’s shoulder and whipped him around.

Once they were facing each other, Cas tried to keep his voice even as he said, “Fag is a hateful word.”

The man swayed on his feet a little, clearly wasted, but his eyes shone gleefully as he insulted Cas again. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer cocksucker?”

With that said, Cas could not hold back. The guy’s insolence had lit a fire in him and he was swinging before he could even think it through. Cole never even ducked, his reaction time slow. His eyes did widen a bit as he saw the fist coming towards him, but that was all he had time for.

As Cas’s knuckles connected with cheekbone, a snap of pain shot through his hand and radiated up into his arm. Around him, Cas could hear the sharp intake of breath as others in the crowd realized that a fight was breaking out. Suddenly, everyone was shouting and he was jostled as people behind him shoved forward for a better look.

The dark haired man had gone down like a sack of potatoes at Tessa’s feet and she was gaping at him, stunned. “Cole?” he questioned of her. “That’s his name?”

She nodded in response, her mouth still hanging open in surprise.

Cas turned his attention back to the man on the floor. He was cupping the side of his face with one hand while struggling to get up. Cas didn’t wait for the asshole to climb to his feet. He put his booted foot to the man’s shoulder and shoved him back to the floor. “Stay down,” he yelled, “and when you sober up, I want you to remember that it was a faggot that put you down there.”

He’d not even realized how loud he’d been shouting until he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw that it was Dean. The commotion had likely caught his attention and he’d probably pushed through the crowd to come and assist. Dean would always back him up, right or wrong.

Already, he knew he’d gone to far. He’d be lucky if there were no ramifications for this.

Even as he thought it, Cas caught sight of bouncers moving their way.

“I - I’m sorry,” he said repentantly, glancing back at Tessa. “I’m very sorry,” he told her. “I only meant to help. It just… it got out of hand.”

“It’s okay, Cas,” she said, stepping to his side. Her big brown eyes held only forgiveness as she went on to say, “Some people need to learn their lessons the hard way.”

As that was being said, Cole was being hoisted up off the floor by friends. Thankfully, they didn’t make any attempt to further the drama. By the time the bouncers arrived, it was over. Cole was leaning on his friends for support and none of them argued when told they’d have to leave the premises. Cas didn’t either. He simply looked over at Dean and apologized again.

“I’ll see you at the house later,” he said as he stepped away.

“Hey,” barked Dean, causing Cas to turn back to face him, “you’re not going any-fuckin’-where. You’re the goddamn victim here. That asshole should have to leave - not you. You should get a drink on the house!”

Had Dean seen what happened? Or had he simply been told what went down by someone else in the crowd?

Around them, a few people cheered at Dean’s sentiment and were now calling for shots. Out of the corner of his eye, Cas could see Tessa laughing.

“That’s right,” said Dean smugly, puffing his chest out as he stepped up to the bouncer, “I say we get this man a drink!”

“I say,” replied the man humorlessly, “it’s time for him to call it a night. He’s leaving. You can stay, if you can keep your mouth shut.”

Cas looked around, taking in his surroundings as his roommate squared off with the bouncer. The onlookers who’d been watching for a fight were now waiting to see what would happen next and the tension was thick. Over the tops of heads, halfway to the door, Cas could see Cole and his friends making their way to the exit. Returning his gaze to Dean and the bouncer, Cas said, “I’ll go. I threw a punch, it’s only fair. Dean, you can stay. I’ll see you later.”

“Fuck that,” spat Dean, chin high and shoulders squared, “If you’re out. I’m out.” And with that said, Dean flung his arm around Cas’s shoulder. Tugging him through the crowd, Dean called out to the room, “My buddy Cas put Cole Trenton on the floor tonight, tell your friends!”

As they made their way towards the door, Dean continued shouting it over and over. Cas couldn’t hold back his laughter and as they cut through the crowd, they both got back slaps and fist bumps and loud shouts of support.

When they finally pushed through the door and out onto the sidewalk, Dean’s swagger turned into a stilted gait. The arm he had thrown around Cas now seemed to be necessary for support. It was at this moment that Cas realized how drunk Dean really was.

“Well, thank fuck you didn’t end up having to fight, Dean,” he joked. “You’re a mess.”

“I woulda been fine,” he slurred, “I’ve always got yer back.”

“There would’ve been one hit, Dean. You. Hitting the floor.”

Pulling Cas to a stop, Dean stepped back, working to stand on his own. “Dude,” he said, patting his pockets as though trying to locate his keys, “where’s my fuckin’ car?”

“A few blocks more,” he answered, waiting while Dean finally found what he needed in his pocket. “I’ll take those,” said Cas when his friend finally produced his keychain.

“Fat lot of good that’ll do,” he grumbled. “You’re as drunk as I am.”

“Not even close,” chuckled Cas. “Let’s go.”

As they resumed walking, Dean grumbled, “This ain’t a great start for the weekend. It’s not even midnight.”

“Hey,” snapped Cas, “I tried to let you stay.”

“M’not gonna stay and party while my friend has to go home alone. S’not fuckin’ fair.”

“Haven’t you heard?” Cas teased as they resumed walking. “Life isn’t fair.”

When they finally climbed into the car, Dean was lilting. Cas knew from experience that by the time they arrived home, his friend would need help getting in the house. He drove carefully, aware that he was buzzed enough to have to piss like mad… and to have thrown a punch when he normally wouldn’t have. They made it safely to the house and, just as he’d figured, Cas wound up having to support Dean’s weight as they staggered up to the front door.

“Forgot the trash,” mumbled Dean as they stepped past what Cas had thrown out earlier.

“It’ll keep,” placated Castiel as he navigated them through the front door.

When they entered, neither bothered turning on the lights. They headed straight for Dean’s room and as they moved clumsily towards his bed, Cas reassured him by saying, “It’s only Friday, Dean, we’ve got all weekend to party.”

“I s’pose,” agreed Dean as he was dropped smoothly onto his bed. “Wha - Wha the fuck is this?” Dean slurred, grasping at the strands of green beads that hung around Cas’s neck. “Did you show yer tits or somethin’?”

“You know better than that,” he chuckled, reaching out to pry Dean’s fingers out of the tangle of necklaces so he could stand up, “but I’m surprised you made it out without any. They were practically falling from the ceiling all night.”

“I want beads,” whined Dean with a hint of humor in his voice. “If I flash you, will you give me some?”

It was dark in Dean’s room. The only light was a silvery glow that seeped in around the edges of the thick blanket that served as a curtain. Well, that and the digital read-out of an old alarm clock on the nightstand. Even in faint light, Cas could see an invitation in Dean’s eyes as they fluttered open and then drifted back closed.

“C’mon, Cas,” he continued, “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Eager, Cas let Dean pull him into the bed.

“Yeah,” whispered Dean as they glommed together, Dean’s hand still fisted into the beads around Cas’s neck. Then, Dean’s mouth found the bolt of Cas’s jaw. It grew quiet after that, their breathing and the soft rustle of material the only sounds as they both struggled to get out of their clothes.

Kicking everything down with their feet, the men spread out on Dean’s mattress and kissed languidly for a moment. Then, Cas was both stunned and elated to feel his friend start moving lower on him. Lips trailed south teasingly and Cas’s heart started to pound heavily, his pulse quickening as Dean’s intentions became clear. Dear sweet lord in heaven, Dean was going to try and blow him. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Cas waited on the brink of panic as Dean’s mouth neared his dick, and he wondered if there was even a snowball's chance in hell that Dean would actually do it. His stomach dipped in anticipation and a moment later, he had his answer.

Softly, tentatively, Dean’s lips grazed the tip of him. Liquid gathered at his tip and Cas thought for sure it would send his friend into a panic. He cursed his body for being so eager and waited to see what would happen. To his surprise, he felt the flick of a tongue. Cas didn’t move - didn’t breathe - didn’t want to do anything to scare the man away.

Daring to hope, Cas waited as patiently as he could. Then there was another soft flick of tongue. Another speculative lick followed that and then Castiel felt the whisper of breath on the flaming hot skin of his crown when Dean inhaled.

Euphoria swept over Cas as Dean’s lips touched the tip again, pecking like a kiss before opening slowly and sinking down.

Every blessing and every curse that Castiel had ever uttered flitted through his mind as Dean took him in. It didn’t take long for his friend to commit to the act, either. Dean was soon rearranging his body to get a better angle, head bobbing confidently. Unable to wait, Cas sought to reciprocate immediately.

So, as Dean sorted his own limbs out, Cas rearranged his too, bringing his body around to a sixty-nine position. With zeal, he sucked down on Dean’s cock. It was floppy and half hard, but that was probably due to  his inebriation more than a lack of interest. At least, Cas hoped it was. Undeterred, he gave Dean a sensual tongue bath and worked him over relentlessly.

For Cas, an orgasm built quickly. Just knowing that it was Dean sucking him off brought a new level of excitement to the act; and because of that, it didn’t take an artful mouth to bring him to completion. All it took was a few minutes of warm, wet exploration and Dean blundering his way through his first real blow job. Cas was ready to shoot way too soon, and he carefully pulled Dean away by his chin so as not to give him a mouthful of jizz.

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, watching unabashedly from under heavy eyelids when Cas came. “Yeah, man. I did that.”

“You did,” whispered Cas gratefully. Then, he returned his mouth to his Dean’s groin with the intention of finishing him off.

“Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I fuck you?”

Hearing those words sent Cas’s heart up into his throat. He couldn’t breathe for a moment as he processed what had been said…

Dean wanted to fuck him. Dean wanted to fuck him. Deep inside, yesses filled him even as he considered the question. He’d never wanted something so badly in all his life. But, sadly, Cas already knew the answer had to be no.

First and foremost, sex was something that Cas believed should be reserved for relationships. The world might  be full of young men who would do that deed with just about anyone who offered, but those men weren’t Castiel Novak. For him, ‘getting off’ and actually having sex fell into two completely different categories. He’d been able to justify his trysts with Dean so far by keeping them in the ‘getting off’ category.

Additionally, drunk as he was, Dean was in no condition to try and master the finer points of anal tonight.

And honestly, Cas wasn’t sure of the condition of his colon. He’d had burgers for dinner for chrissake. He’d been drinking for hours. Who knows what condition Dean’s cock would be in when it finally pulled out. For two men in a committed relationship, what’s a little doo doo on the dick, right? But two friends engaged in a loose version of a friends-with-benefits relationship? No way. Something like that could easily be a deal breaker.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

“S’okay,” replied Dean, a little too quickly, “I figured. Can’t blame a guy for askin’ though, right?”

“Right,” he agreed softly, sinking down to take Dean’s wilted dick back into his mouth. He rolled the chub around with his tongue and gave his friend the best blow job he could. But, in the end, it didn’t matter. Dean passed out midway through.

His snores grew louder as Cas lay watching his friend sleep in the dim, fingers carding through the soft hair that Dean always kept so neatly trimmed. But, eventually, Cas headed up to his own room. Though they’d done stuff together often, Dean had never stayed the night with Cas. Because of that, it didn’t feel right to sleep over in Dean’s bed either.

When he awoke the next morning, Cas was glad that he’d had the strength to say no to his friend. For months now, he’d been digging his own grave with Dean. It was probably time to start exercising some common sense and self-preservation before he found himself in so deep that he was unable to get out with his heart in tact.

When he finally put feet to the floor, Cas headed to the kitchen. He was thirsty, parched, and a dull headache was manifesting behind his eyes. Gripping the handle to open the fridge, a twinge zinged through his hand and up his wrist. A sharp reminder of the punch he’d thrown last night. He stood looking at the wide variety of food and drink. Only then did he remember that they’d been to the store yesterday, or that a storm was headed their way.

Grabbing a jug of orange juice and breaking the seal on it, Cas stood there with the refrigerator door open and pounded it. Just as he was twisting the cap back on, he heard knocking and then the sound of the front door pushing open. Turning slowly towards the living room, Cas headed out to see who as here. Before he even rounded the corner, he could hear footsteps and voices. It sounded like half a dozen people had just walked in.

“Novak?” someone called, “Winchester?”

“Out here,” he answered, shuffling out into the room in his sleep pants.

“Breakfast of champions?” grinned Benny, gesturing to the jug of juice in his hands.

“It would be better with pancakes. Maybe you’d like to make some, considering you’re already up and around.”

“Everthin’ I make has hot sauce in it,” quipped Benny, “how’s that sound to ya?”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little.”

“Well then, I think you’d better check the cupboards for some Cap’n Crunch.”

During their exchange, the others who’d entered had taken over the couch. Ron and his girlfriend were arguing playfully over whether to watch a video or play a game and beside them, Andy was making himself at home.

“Andy,” said Cas, “just the guy I wanted to see.”

“You got a fifty burnin’ a hole in your pocket?” he teased.

“There’s a storm coming,” joked Cas, “I’ve got a hundred.”

Putting his back to the room, Cas headed upstairs to get dressed and grab his wallet. Andy was their friend, but he was also their dealer. He and Dean never bought anything besides weed, but the football guys bought other stuff and Ron had a penchant for adderall.

Before he’d reached the bottom of the stairs, Cas could hear the door opening again. More people. He was momentarily annoyed, but then when he realized he was hearing Tessa’s voice, he perked up considerably.

“Hey slugger,” she greeted him when he returned to the living room. “How’s the hand?”

“It’s alright,” he reassured as she crossed the room.

Taking his hand in hers, she looked it over as though she as a nurse. “It’s swollen. Did you even ice it last night?’

“No. I didn’t think of it.”

“Well, it’s probably too late for ice. Have you taken anything for the swelling?”

Letting a sly grin spread over his face, he tipped his head in Andy’s direction and said, “This is my pharmacist, Andy. Andy, this is Tessa.”

Andy looked up from the coffee table where he was dutifully rolling joints and acknowledged Tessa.

“Cas,” she chastised, “I hardly think that’s an acceptable substitute for ibuprofen.”

“I’ll have to check the medicine cabinet,” he said, idly wondering if they had any left or not.

“No need,” she grinned, digging into her purse to produce a brand new bottle, still in it’s packaging.

“You brought me ibuprofen?”

“It was the least I could do for my knight in shining armor,” she said sweetly. “And, here,” she added, pushing a lidded paper cup from the coffee shop into his hands.

“Thank you,” he said warmly, “this was very kind of you.”

“I just wanted to check on you… make sure you were alright.”

Giving her a quick hug, he turned towards the kitchen and tilted his head as an invitation to come with him. “Fix you something for breakfast?”

“No thanks. I had a scone on the way over. I saw Charlie and Gilda at the coffee shop though. They were headed over here too.”

“Alright, well, make yourself at home. I’m going to grab some food and I’ll be right back.”

She waved him off, turning to the couch to say hello to Ron’s girlfriend, Debbie, who apparently lived on the same floor of her dorm.

Charlie and Gilda did stop by, and by the time Cas had taken his pills, wolfed down some toast, and polished off the juice, their living room was overflowing. As he entered, he saw that Dean was up. His bedroom door was open and he was leaning in the doorway talking to the group in his boxers.

“Wake n bake?” asked Andy, ambling over to hand Dean a lit joint.

“Hell, it’s St. Paddy’s Day,” laughed Dean, “gimme the green.”

They all passed one around, the living room growing hazy as it filled with smoke. A few tokes and Cas had forgotten his heartache, headache, and throbbing hand. He laughed along with his friends as they talked about last night and he accepted the boisterous accolades from everyone as Tessa regaled them all with a first-hand retelling of how he’d dropped Cole Trenton in one punch.

When the conversation shifted to other things, Cas excused himself to go grab a shower. After, with bare feet and wet hair, he headed back to the living room where he caught wind of a heavy debate among his friends. The subject matter stopped him in his tracks before he could even find a seat.

“Wait, so if takin’ it up the ass doesn’t make him gay, then what does?” bellered Benny.

“That’s right,” laughed Dean, exhaling smoke in Benny’s direction, “A guy can get away with a lot and still not be gay. Glory holes, orgies, it’s all good. But if you bottom, that’s when it’s gay.”

At first, Cas had been startled. He’d wondered if somehow he and Dean had been outed.But taking in Dean’s relaxed demeanor as he spoke, Cas figured that the group must be discussing something else. Even as he sorted out what was happening, something about Dean’s sentence lodged into his brain. Did his friend really think that the only gay person participating in gay sex was the guy who bottomed?

“You boys have it all wrong,” interrupted Charlie. She was sitting cross legged in the broken recliner and Gilda was perched on the arm of it.

“Oh come on,” shouted Ron, his girl tucked into his lap. “The guy let her shove a dildo up his ass. It’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You ain’t heard much then,” laughed Andy.

Charlie sat up straighter as though she was a teacher and these kids were just adorable kindergarteners whose minds she was molding. “I’m telling you guys, you are totally missing the point.”

“The point is,” retorted Benny, “that the guy willingly took it up the ass. He’s gay. There’s no two ways about it.”

“Who the hell are you all talking about?” shouted Cas, dying to know.

“Cyrus,” said Benny, “Cyrus Styne. That little bookworm RA on Vic’s floor. Coupla guys went to his room after hours when their smoke detector wouldn’t stop going off and said they got an eyeful. You know Meg Masters, right?”

“Yes,” nodded Cas, urging Benny to get on with the story.

“Well, I guess when they came in, she was there - she fuckin’ had ‘im bent over his desk and was stuffin’ him with a huge black dildo. So, yeah, we’re all thinkin’ he’s in the club.”

“The club?”

“Ya know… the club… the guys who take it instead of give it. He’s gotta be gay, right Cas?”

“Oh. My. God,” sighed Charlie. “I just - I don’t think I have the patience.”

Gilda patted her reassuringly and gave a smile of encouragement.

“Alright,” said Charlie begrudgingly, “what exactly is it about this scenario that makes you think he’s gay?”

“The giant dildo up his ass!” shouted Ron from across the room. Once more the group busted out laughing loudly.

As the jeers died down, Charlie cleared her throat and tried again. “I think we all need to remember that our sexuality doesn’t define us as people. It’s a part of who we are, but it’s not _all_ that we are. And in regards to the different sexual experiences that people may try… there is no single act that can define a person’s sexuality.”

Andy sat forward then, passing off the joint he was holding as he addressed Charlie. “Is that the politically correct way of saying that even taking it up the ass doesn’t necessarily make a person gay?”

“Close,” she said with a smile. “What I’m trying to say is that our sexual preference is bigger than a single act. It’s comprised of everything we’ve ever fantasized about and everything we’ve ever tried. And in my opinion,” she added, “the acts themselves are far less important than who we’re doing them with.”

“How so?” asked Dean, leaning forward to pass the joint.

“Well, everyone’s so fixated on the fact that this guy was being penetrated. But no one’s even considering that it was a girl who penetrated him. I happen to think that the sexual act is secondary to the choice of partner. I mean, if you’re a person that likes being drilled up the ass, you can still be straight or gay. The difference is whether you want a man or a woman to drill you.”

Having said that, Charlie sat back in her seat like a lawyer who’d just said, ‘I rest my case’. Cas had been nodding along as she spoke and he saw Andy doing the same as he listened. After she’d finished, Andy grinned and loudly addressed the room. “Well, that’s it then, the official rep of the LGBT community for this discussion has spoken. The dude’s not gay. Pay up gentlemen.”

Cas couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the guys dig out there wallets and settle up a bet that had clearly been made while he was in the shower. Dean spoke again while his friends were distracted with divvying up cash. He turned to Charlie and said, “So it's all about who and not what we're doing? Is that what you're saying? Whoever we most want to fuck, that’s our gender preference?”

“Perhaps for some, I suppose," she conceded. "But generally speaking, trying to make a blanket statement and have it apply to everyone is a bad idea. Our preferences are just that... preferences. They're not set in stone and they can change with time and life experiences. There aren't any rules, Dean, we just want who we want. I mean, we might feel chemistry with someone now and want to fuck them, but that doesn't mean we'd still have same impulse ten years from now because we'll have grown and changed during that time; it also doesn't mean that we'll only ever want a person of that same gender. In my opinion, it's best to just keep an open mind, and be as honest with ourselves and our partners as we can."

“Okay…” he said with a question audible in his tone.

“You’re still confused,” noted Gilda softly. Laying her hand on Charlie’s shoulder, she said, “Let me try and explain this another way.” Then, she turned her attention to her host. “Dean, being gay or straight isn’t really about _how_ a person wants to have sex… it’s about _who_ they want to be with when they do. When we choose who we’re going to sleep with, we’re also choosing who we’re going to cuddle up with in bed at night and who we’re going to sit on the couch and watch TV with, who we’ll be spending our holidays with and taking vacations with. The person or people that we want to have sex with, spend our time with, share our life with, that person is our choice. And if we feel an inclination towards someone who doesn't fall into the hetero normative box, than maybe we’re not completely straight.  Learning and labeling oneself isn't always easy and it can take some time.”

Cas thought Dean looked a bit shell shocked, but perhaps it was just a difficult concept for a straight person to grasp. Or maybe he’d lost money on the bet. Cas hadn’t been paying close enough attention to know why Dean seemed so weirded out, but he liked the way Charlie and Gilda seemed to be trying so hard to answer his questions without asking any clarifying ones of him. 

As Dean nodded and leaned back in his seat, Charlie added, “and let’s not forget that sexuality isn’t defined by just straight and gay. Some people identify as bi, pan, demi, poly, I mean, we could discuss this for hours. There’s nothing black and white about sexuality. And it’s far more fluid than most people care to admit. A person can identify as one label and then change it later. Perhaps more than once. We’re people, and no matter how old we get, we never stop growing and changing.”

“This is starting to feel like a class,” groaned Ron. “Let’s get back to the game.”

And with that, all traces of actual conversation were wiped away. In place of discussion were the juvenile exchange of curses and threats as the players worked to systematically destroy one another on screen. Dean pushed past Ron to settle in next to Andy and light another joint. Cas sat down on the floor near the end of the couch so he could chat with Charlie and Gilda a bit more.

The house was full of company that day as friends came and went, and then, as the sun began to set, everyone began heading out to the parties and bars. He and Dean wound up giving a few friends a ride to The Jug and as they were walking out to the Impala, the very first snow flakes were floating in on a cool breeze.

“Well, it was nice seeing the grass for a few days,” quipped Dean as he turned the key in the ignition. Then, they were off. Once again, they had to park a fair distance from their destination, but Cas figured it would be for the best. A long walk in the cold would probably do them a lot of good when they left the bar.

Tonight there was a live band playing Irish folk rock. Surprisingly, they didn’t suck. In fact, they were amazing. The lead singer was either truly Irish, or doing a damn good impression, and between songs he was full of playful banter for the crowd. He also showed a few dance steps, and got the entire bar singing along to traditional Irish drinking songs, which the band repeated every hour or two. Hearing the songs more than once made them familiar and fun. The bar was packed tonight and everyone was joining in, sloshing beer onto the floor as they made fools of themselves.

Dean was in top form, buzzed and playfully flirting with every girl who crossed his path. But when ‘Drink it up Men’ was played for the third time, Cas saw his friend come bulldozing across the bar to rejoin him and Benny.  Dean wrapped an arm around each of them and the three sang along, loudly and off key.

At one point, Cas was pulled into a dance with several girls nearby. They were sloppy drunk and so was he by that point, but they all had a blast trying to duplicate the dance being demonstrated on stage. Cas found that the step was relatively simple and once he’d picked it up, he was able to improvise with the girls. They took turns spinning one another and even clasping hands to click their heels together. Giddy laughter and boisterous shenanigans were thick and Cas was having such a good time that he didn’t notice the time flying by. He drank indulgently as the night wore on, doing shots whenever anyone suggested it.

The entire place was buzzing, rhythmic clapping and foot stomping adding a sense of merriment. Cas was flying high, drinking and dancing and laughing with his friends - even making some new ones.

It was such a bummer to hear the band announce the last song of the night. Everyone seemed to share the sentiment, calling for encores, pushing for more and more. It was last call before the band finally took their final bow and thanked everyone for coming out. By then, Cas had the spins so bad he could hardly stay on his feet.

Plunking down in a bar stool, he propped his elbows on the bar and dropped his head into his hands as he waited for the vertigo to pass. While he rested there, several groups of friends stopped by to bid him good night, thumping him drunkenly on the back as they passed.

As the bar started to clear, the air around him seemed to cool a bit. It was an improvement.

“Do you need an Uber?” asked the bartender.

“No. I’m just waiting for my friend,” sighed Cas, wondering how long it would take Dean to come collect him. “But a water would be great,” he added.

When a small plastic cup was pushed into his hands, he drank thirstily. The water was cool and refreshing. Wiping the sweat beads from his brow, Cas sat up a bit straighter to look around. Turning slowly on his stool, Castiel scanned the emptying bar for any sign of his friend. Not two seconds later, he saw Dean exiting the restroom. At first he thought he was seeing double, but then he realized that Dean was exiting the bathroom with a girl in tow. She was leaning on him, though not drunkenly. As the two approached him, Cas could tell from their vibe that they’d just fucked in a stall. It was hard to tell how drunk his friend really was.

“You okay to drive?” he asked.

“Oh yeah,” Dean said dutifully, “but give me a sec to say goodnight to…”

“Rhonda,” she said firmly, filling in her name when Dean had clearly forgotten it. “Rhonda Hurley. You’ve got my number.”

“I do?”

“I wrote in on my panties,” she told him, obviously not worried about their exchange being overheard. “Call me,” she added, “I’d love to get my hands on you somewhere we can really move around.”

Cas couldn’t help rolling his eyes as Dean propositioned her to join him the backseat of his precious car. Falling in with her friends as they left, she called out to him, “Maybe next time.” And with that, she was gone.

Turning to Cas, Dean grinned unabashedly as he leaned on the bar and said, “She wrote her number on her panties.”

“So I heard,” replied Cas, trying to keep his tone civil.

“Dude,” giggled Dean, “I’m _wearing_ her panties!”

“You’re what?” he asked, intrigued and irritated in equal measure.

“She made me try them on,” he winked.

Cas’s stomach chose that moment to roll violently. He had no idea if it was a reaction to Rhonda and her panties or if he’d simply drank too much. Regardless, he suddenly felt quite ill and wanted nothing more than to get home. “I’ve got the spins,” he said. “Can we go now?”

“Sure, buddy,” said Dean, leaning in to help him up.

Rising from his stool, Cas found his legs to be uncooperative. He dipped and swayed as he tried to walk, even though Dean was helping him. The world around him was blurry and time seemed to be speeding up and slowing down unpredictably.

Then, strong arms were lifting him and he found himself suspended between Dean and Benny. He tried to put one foot in front of the other and walk with them, but mostly his shoes were just dragging on the floor.

By the time they pushed through the exit, Cas was holding back vomit. Thankfully, the difference between a warm, stuffy bar and the winter weather outside aided him. The icy wind was refreshing as it gusted over his fevered skin. A deep and cleansing breath helped tremendously. As Cas began to feel marginally better, he became aware of Dean and Benny talking, one to his left and the other to his right, as they shared the burden of carrying him.

Dean was telling Benny about Rhonda and the panties.  

“Winchester, are you kiddin’ me with this shit? Panties? You’re wearin’ goddam panties right now?”

“She made me,” he laughed. “Besides, it’s not gay unless I do it for a guy, right? Ain’t that what we learned today?”

Just as that was said, Cas’s stomach rolled again and this time, he couldn’t hold it back. Trying to warn his friends, Cas managed to say, “I’m gonna -

But it was too little, too late. He wasn’t even able to finish his sentence before his stomach clamped down and pushed a flood of sour, acidic liquid up his esophagus. The surge was powerful and Cas found himself unable to anything other than just open his mouth and let it out.

He was stunned at the force behind the liquid as he projectile vomited. It sprayed out of him like a geyser.

Dean and Benny both stopped abruptly, and Cas felt his head snapping forward. Opening his eyes just a sliver was all he could manage and the moment he did it, he shut them again. The sight of his own vomit slopped ahead of them, steaming as it cooled in a bed of white powder, was enough to lurch his stomach again.

Taking deep breaths through his mouth, Cas swallowed feverishly and prayed nothing else would come up. His friends were alternating back and forth between laughing at him and berating him, and Cas just wished he could be home in bed. Hanging between Dean and Benny, Cas then felt his knees give out and then the sweet relief of unconsciousness.

Awareness returned in the form of pain when he was dropped to the ground. Forcing his eyes open and lifting his head took a monumental effort, but he wanted to get his bearings. He was sprawled on the sidewalk now, his back leaning against what felt like a brick building. His ass was cold and so were his legs. Beyond his splayed legs, Cas could make out two lumbering shapes… his friends. They seemed to be about a dozen feet away. Willing his eyes to focus, he was able to see that they were clearing snow off of Dean’s car. Looking around he saw that there were several inches of it covering everything. The sidewalk had less, probably because it had recently been shoveled.

Fuck. He needed to puke again. When the urge overcame him, he didn’t fight it. But, sadly, his limbs were unresponsive. He couldn’t move or even really turn his head to point the vomit away from him. It was all he could manage to just open his mouth and let the contents of his stomach roll out of him. The relief tied to the action made it hard to regret, but he hated feeling the slime spill over his chin. He detested the unnatural warmth on his chest too, because he knew it was puke soaking into his shirt.  

Struggling to stay awake, Cas called out to his friends. What he wanted to say was that he was miserable and wanted to go home and could they please hurry the fuck up. But the few words he could manage to croak out were distorted. “I sick,” and, “My ass cold,” was the best he could do.

The only response to his dilemma was a burst of fresh laughter from his friends.

“Assholes,” he tried to say in response. That didn’t come out well either. The world slipped in and out of focus as he sat in misery. When he was finally hoisted from the ground and shoved into the back seat of Dean’s Impala he tried to assist, but his efforts were fruitless.

The next thing he knew, he was being dragged back out of the car. As his head lolled, Cas managed to catch a glimpse of their front door. He felt very disconnected from his body and powerless even lift his head.

When he woke, he was miserable. His head hurt… no, wait, that was too limited… his head was throbbing with an intensity that threatened to split his skull open. He felt uncomfortably warm and sweaty, but his feet and hands were like ice. Moving, even just to roll over, seemed impossible. But, with concentrated effort, he was able to finally turn onto his side. Shivering, he tried to get under the blankets only to find that he already _was_ under them. At this point only relief he could imagine was to go back to sleep.

But, with his bladder awake now, it was pointless to try. The logical side of Cas’s brain tried to reason with him. _There’s meds in the bathroom. Go take a piss. Drink some water and take some pills. You’ll feel better._

The illogical side of him argued the merits of returning to sleep, just letting himself piss the bed, or possibly calling out for someone for help.

Thinking of that, Cas wondered where he was for the first time. He could tell it was daylight, but the muted light gave no indication of morning versus afternoon. Cas could also tell that he was home, but that he was not in his own room. Picking up his head to look around, he saw that he was actually in Dean’s room and he wondered if Dean was here. When his ears picked up a muted conversation coming from the other side of the closed door he knew he could call out for help and be heard.

Even just hollering towards the next room aggravated his headache to the point that a tear leaked out from the corner of his eye. Unwilling to do more, Cas eased himself back down and laid on the bed with his eyes shut as he waited to see if someone would answer him. A moment later he heard the door creak open and Dean’s voice saying, “Whatcha need buddy?”

“Aspirin and water,” he managed to choke out. It took a few minutes, but the door creaked again and someone pushed through it. There were footfalls on the carpet but still Cas didn’t try to open his eyes. The bed dipped as Dean’s weight settled on it. He didn’t need to look to know it who was perched on the bed next to him. He could tell just by the smell of him… some familiar combination of laundry soap, shampoo, and aftershave.

“Here,” said Dean softly, “Can ya sit up?”

“No.”

“Try for me, Cas.”

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up to a seated position. The room pitched and rolled around him and the throbbing in his head swelled to a crescendo.  Willing himself to ignore it all, Cas took the cup being proffered to him. He swallowed the pills blindly when they were placed in his hand and followed them with heavy gulps of cool water.

“Sleep it off,” sighed Dean, “and jus’ hollar if ya need anything else.”

“I need to piss,” complained Cas.

“Well, I can’t do much for ya on that one. I mean, I could maybe bring ya a coffee can.”

“Do that.”

Dean’s soft chuckle was irritating. “You can walk,” he said firmly.

“I’ll puke.”

“All the more reason to get to the bathroom,” goaded Dean.

“Fuck off.”

“You want help or not?”

“Fuck. Off.”

“If you say so,” chuckled his friend, getting up from the bed.

“Dean.”

“Yeah buddy?”

“Help me up.”

Huffing a laugh, Dean leaned in and wrapped an arm around Cas’s waist. Lurching, he boosted Cas up to his feet. Then, supporting most of Cas’s weight, Dean walked him out of the bedroom. The trip to the bathroom was challenging, mostly because once he’d started moving around, Cas could smell the puke that had crusted on his clothing. Trying not to breathe through his nose, he attempted to focus on the task at hand and not his rotten stomach.

When he’d been positioned at the toilet, Dean stepped back and left Cas to contend with his zipper. Just being on his feet was an effort of epic proportions and, in a heartbeat, he was sweating and his pulse was racing. Doing his best to be quick so he could get back in bed, Cas fumbled around with his zipper and quickly became angry when it didn’t come down right away. Frustrated beyond measure, Cas didn’t bother doing himself back up after he’d peed. Instead he simply let his pants fall. When they’d pooled at his feet, he kicked them the rest of the way off.  

“You gonna walk back to bed like that?” prodded Dean.

Admittedly, he probably looked funny in nothing but his dressy, vomit covered shirt and underwear, but it was hard to care about that when he was feeling like death warmed over.

“Yes, I’m going to walk to bed like this,” answered Cas, his eyes drifting shut. “Am I really getting grief for that from a guy who wore panties home from the bar last night?”

“I can’t believe you remember that. Dude. You were so fucking wasted.”

“I’m going to pass out if I have to keep standing here.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry man,” Dean said as he moved back into position to assist.

This was, by far, the most hungover Castiel had ever been. As Dean walked him back to bed, Cas was promising the heavens that he’d never drink again. Then, when he had a mattress under him again, he tried to remember how many drinks he’d actually had. Several times he attempted to count but he kept losing track. What he really wanted to know was if it were possible that he had alcohol poisoning rather than just a hangover. Unfortunately, he lost consciousness even as he contemplated the possibility.

When he woke again, Cas was feeling considerably better. Though he still felt like he’d been hit by a bus, at least he was no longer praying for death. Sitting up in Dean’s bed, he inhaled the scent of his friend that lingered in the air.

Laying on the nightstand next to the bed were pills and a bottle of water. After washing down a double dose, Cas stood up. He tore off his stinky puke shirt and tossed it to the pile of dirty clothes in the corner before stepping up to his friend’s dresser. Needing something clean to put on, he helped himself to an old AC/DC t-shirt and sweatpants.

Through the closed door, the sounds of conversation drifted in. He was about to head out into the living room and see who was here when he heard his name. That caught his attention. Resting his head on the door, Cas listened carefully, trying to pick up as much of the conversation as possible.

“M’serious,” Dean was saying, “I’d never gotten in the back door, man, not even once. Then along comes Cas. He gives me one little piece of advice and suddenly I’m the goddamn king of anal action. They _all_ give it up for me now.”

“What advice did he give you?” The voice belonged to Benny, he must’ve stayed over.

“Oh no,” laughed Dean, “I’m takin’ that ‘lil secret to my grave.”

“What? Why?”

“Cause, man, I’m the only game in town. Can’t have you tappin’ ‘em all before I get there.”

“Right. Don’t tell me then. That’d make it too easy and I like a challenge. You goin’ out again tonight?”

“Nah. Storm’s movin’ in. Gonna keep Baby parked in the driveway tonight. Drop by if you want, though, we’ll hang.”

“Might do that.”

“Cool man, see ya then.”

Cas heard the front door click shut and realized that Benny had just left. With nothing left to listen-in on, he prepared to actually leave Dean’s bedroom. His hand was just reaching for the doorknob when the door suddenly opened, clunking him in the head.

“Godammit,” he cursed.

“Sorry,” said Dean softly, “was just comin’ to check on ya. Make sure you were breathing and all that.”

“I’m good, Dean. Thank you.”

“You want food?”

“Definitely not. I’m just going to use the restroom. Maybe get something to drink.”

“Wanna come out and watch a movie?”

“Maybe. Thanks for letting me sleep it off in your bed.”

“It seemed easier than draggin’ yer ass up all them stairs. Is that my shirt?”

“Yes. Mine was ripe and I had to get out of it. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, s’cool,” said Dean as he looked Cas up and down. Cas thought perhaps he was checking to see what other clothes had been stolen from his drawers.

“These are your sweats too. I’ll wash and return everything.”

“No big.”

Cas walked past Dean and headed for the bathroom. A long shower did a lot for him, and he felt much better after. The blinding headache he’d awakened with was now reduced to a dull throb and violent nausea was now simply an unsettled stomach. Despite the improvements, a movie on the couch was the most he could imagine doing right now. So, that’s where he curled up. He was flicking channels with the remote when the front door slammed.

Looking up, he saw Dean entering. His cheeks were pink and rosy, as were his ears. Shrugging out of his coat and kicking off his boots, Dean said, “It’s gettin’ nasty out there already.”

“I didn’t realize you’d gone outside.”

“Yeah, the driveway was buried and it’s still snowing. Figured if I put off the shoveling, it’ll break my back when I finally get out there to do it.”

“I should’ve been helping you,” lamented Cas.

“Fuck that. I always slack off when I’m hungover. It’s your turn man, jus’ chill.”

“Thank you.”

“Whatever,” mumbled Dean. “Ya need anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” answered Cas as he resumed flipping channels.

A moment later, he was being covered over in a blanket. Dean left the room then and Cas huddled down, having not even realized he’d been cold until that moment.  

Settling on a documentary about the Roman Empire that seemed interesting, Cas set down the remote and lost himself in the show. A short while later, Dean was back and bending to offer him a cup of soup. It smelled wonderful and as he sat up to take it, he smiled because it felt so good to be taken care of like this.

When Dean settled on the opposite end of the couch, he hauled Cas’s feet up into his lap and that’s how they spent the rest of the afternoon… just relaxing and watching television. Outside, the wind buffeted their little house and the snow continued to pile up. Occasionally, a banner would cross the bottom of the screen to announce the delays and closings for tomorrow morning and when their campus joined the list, both men fist bumped.

They had surprisingly little company during their snow day, probably because no one on campus wanted to go outside unless they had to. Once the worst was over, life got back to normal pretty quickly. But, in the aftermath of the holiday weekend, something did change. Dean.

Cas had been enjoying their ever-evolving affair, noticing how his friend’s touches had become soft and frequent as well as enjoying both the increasing intensity and frequency of their liaisons. But now, since Saint Patrick’s Day weekend, all traces of that had disappeared.

Nothing was said aloud, but Cas couldn’t help feeling like they’d broken up.

It was silly to think like that when they’d never been going out. But yet, somehow, that’s what had happened.

Dean was still his best friend, no doubt. They still had fun together, helped each other, and went about their routines as they always had. But, the lingering touches were gone. The soft smiles were gone. Worst of all, Dean no longer came upstairs.

An overwhelming sense of loss seeped into his soul as Cas spent his days and nights ruminating on what had gone wrong. He’d known all along that their new dynamic wasn’t healthy for him.  At the end of the day, Dean was straight. There was no hope of any real future with him. And as long as Cas was involved with him, he’d never be able to really fall for anyone else. Essentially, by taking the crumbs offered by Dean, he was forfeiting a cake with someone else. Deep down he knew it was for the best that they return to just being friends in the traditional sense, but that didn’t stop him from mourning what he’d lost.

As spring break approached, their friends all started talking about what to do for the occasion. Some were heading home to visit their family while others would be staying at school and picking up extra shifts at their part time jobs. A lucky few were making wildly exciting plans to party in Florida, Cancun, or even Jamaica.

Dean hadn’t discussed his plans with Cas at all, but when Andy had asked about Miami, Dean had said, “Maybe next year. This is Sammy’s last year at home and once he goes off to California, he won’t be back.”

Though Castiel had more leeway in his discretionary spending than Dean did, his ‘spending money’ was mostly supplied by a stipend from his parents. What he received was more than enough to cover his normal expenses as well as a few extras. But, he hardly had access to the kind of funds needed for a tropical spring break. If he wanted to do something like that, he’d have to put it on a credit card. Knowing that his line of credit would have to last all the way through medical school, Cas was loathe to waste too much of it this early in his college career. So, in the weeks leading up to the break, Castiel decided he’d just stick around campus. If Dean wound up going back to Lawrence, then he’d have the place to himself. He tried to think of that as a positive, but it didn’t feel like one.

That Thursday, Castiel went to QA as always. But, since they wouldn’t be meeting again until the end of April, the club had planned a special outing. Instead of having a formal meeting, the group was carpooling across town to play Ultimate Dodgeball at the indoor trampoline park.

Cas had never even heard of such a thing, but once it was mentioned as a possibility, he’d become excited about it. He’d even googled some videos out of curiosity. As it turned out, the videos didn’t do it justice. The space reserved for their game was huge, it’s floor made up of trampolines end to end. Between the trampolines was a grid of plastic covered foam which made it possible to move up and down the full length of the room. The walls were also made of trampolines, but were slanted instead of straight up and down. So, in theory, one could literally run or jump up the walls.

As Cas soon found out, that was MUCH easier said than done. Before the start of their game, the group was allowed a half hour of free time with which to get acclimated to the environment. Like gleeful children let out to recess, everyone fanned out into the play space with Charlie leading the charge.

It was impossible to resist jumping around, challenging each other to see who could jump higher or farther, and even attempt tricks like flips and spins. Cas made several attempts at the side walls and found himself flopping on his ass each and every time. The exhilaration didn’t wear off when free time was over, but rather the addition of a beloved childhood game spiked adrenaline through the roof. Numbering off into two teams, the group split apart to opposite ends of the enormous room and waited for the whistle.

Immediately they all charged for the pile of balls resting in the center. From then on, it was chaos. Even remembering which players were his teammates was a challenge, but it didn’t matter. Everyone had a blast. In the end, they didn’t bother trying to name a winning team. Then, after, everyone headed over to Baskin Robbins Ice Cream.

Cas said a polite hello to Mick when they entered, and then found himself pulled into a conversation with a couple he’d recently gotten to know. Jesse was majoring in childhood education. He was soft spoken for the most part, but did seem to have a bit of a temper. His boyfriend, Cesar, was from Texas and had grown up on a ranch that he’d one day inherit. He was majoring in Animal Science. The two made a nice couple and as they waited to order their ice-cream, they drew Castiel into a conversation about spring break.

The three sat together when they’d been served and talked at length about ‘the farm’ and Cesar never seemed to tire of answering Cas’s relentless questions about it. When he was dropped off at home that night, Baby was in the driveway. But, upon entering, Cas found the house quiet and empty.

Thinking he was alone, Cas walked in and settled in on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and grabbing the remote. It was then that he heard whispers. Cocking his head to listen, he realized he was hearing a woman’s voice.

Turning towards the sound, he found himself staring at Dean’s bedroom door. It was closed. A minute ago, Cas had assumed Dean to be off somewhere with a friend. Now, he realized that not only was Dean here… he had company. As always, a sinking sensation in Cas’s stomach accompanied the realization that Dean was with someone.

Determined not to run away this time, Cas held his position on the couch and tried to stay focused on the television screen as he went to the menu channel and began looking for something to watch.

A bit louder now, he heard feminine giggles followed by Dean’s deep baritone voice. Laughter. Giggles. Overlapping female voices. More laughter.  

 _Fuck me_ , thought Cas, _he’s got more than one girl in there_.

As he sat in silence, stunned, the sounds coming from Dean’s room turned salacious. Giggles still rose up now and then, but for the most part, he heard only whispering, moaning, and the tell tale creaking of over-used bed springs.

Once again, Cas found himself feeling aroused against all logic. He lingered on the couch for longer than he should’ve and, as he listened, he could almost picture what was happening.The voices got louder and more demanding as the minutes ticked by. What had begun as almost unintelligible whispers had morphed into zealous cries of ‘more, baby, more’ and ‘don’t stop’ and ‘please, please, please’ and ‘yeah, baby, ride it for me’.

Having heard more than enough, Cas finally got up from the couch and headed upstairs - where he should’ve gone in the first fucking place. Instead, for some reason, he’d subjected himself to the cruel heartbreak of hearing the love of his life engage in a threesome. The punishment for his ill-advised venture was a raging hard on that he was too sad to deal with.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Cas did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He called his brother.

“Heya Cassie,” greeted Gabriel when the call went through. “How’ve you been?”

“Okay, I guess. How’s the west coast treating you?”

“Winter is colder than I would’ve expected, but other than that, Cali is a dream come true.”

“How are your classes?”

“Great. Everything’s fan-fucking-tastic. Now, why don’t we skip the rest of the small talk and you can tell me why you really called.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know. I just needed to hear your voice, I guess.”

“Well, little bro, are you failing a class?”

“No.”

“Have you run out of money?”

“No.”

“Are the other kids pickin’ on you?” Gabe teased in a falsely sweet voice.

“No,” he said again, this time letting out a soft chuckle of amusement.

“Broken heart?”

With a deep sigh, Castiel admitted, “Yes, that’s it, I guess. I’m not sure why I thought calling you would make me feel better, though. Perhaps I just thought you might be able to give me some advice.”

“Well, tell me what’s going on, Cassie,” said Gabe. “Help me help you.”

“I’m in love with Dean.”

On a long suffering sigh, his brother flatly said, “Well, no shit.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Cassie, you’ve been in love with Dean for as long as I can remember.”

“You knew? All these years?”

“Of course.”

“How come you never said anything?”

“What’s to say? It is what it is.”

“I suppose. I just - I don’t know what to do. I just know that I can’t keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

“What have you been doing?”

“Trying to ignore it. Hoping it will go away.”

“It won’t.”

“Never?”

“Not while you’re living with him. You don’t need me to tell you that, do you? I mean, c’mon little bro, you’re supposed to be the smart one.”

“It was okay, Gabe, it really was. I was happy for a long time. I meant what I said at Thanksgiving.”

“So… what’s changed?”

Cas took a deep breath and let it out before he made his confession. “We’ve been messing around some.”

“Messing around? Is that your way of saying that the two of you have been fucking?”

“No. No, nothing like that. We’ve just been, well, we’ve been doing other stuff.”

“I knew it,” laughed Gabriel, “I fucking knew that boy wasn’t straight. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No. You never said anything like that to me.”

“I didn’t? Oh, well, I meant to. I guess it was just never the right time. But there was always something about Dean. He just seemed so… so…”

“What, Gabe, what?” demanded Cas.

“I don’t know. He was always a cocky, kinky little fucker. Even before you guys had pubes. And I can’t even put my finger on why, but for some reason I always thought he could wind up going either way. It seemed like just a matter of time before he got a little bi-curious. So, what happened?”

“I don’t know. At first I thought it was a one-time thing. But then it happened again. And again.Then it wound up becoming a regular thing. And for a while there, he was acting different too - more like a boyfriend than a friend.”

“I’m assuming you had no complaints about that, right Cassie?”

“Things weren’t perfect, Gabe. But, I suppose it’s true enough to say that I had no complaints. At least, none big enough to make me regret what we were doing.”

“So, if you were okay with how things were going, then what’s changed?”

“I have no idea. After Saint Patrick’s Day weekend, I started to notice him pulling away. We’re still friends and stuff… it’s not even awkward between us… I just, I’d really like to know why it’s over.”

“Maybe he’s just had too much of a good thing. You guys share a house, a car, all of your friends, maybe he just needs some time away.”

“We’ve been living together for almost two years. He’s never needed time away from me before.”

“You were never fucking before.”

“We were never fucking at all,” Cas reminded his brother. “And he never quit fucking other people. Hell, he’s Dean fucking Winchester. He never even slowed down.”

“So, aside from you, are his conquests exclusively female?”

“Yes.

“Tell me this,” said Gabriel, “Since the two of you stopped fooling around, has he been pulling double duty?”

“I don’t understand that reference.”

“I’m asking if he’s fucking even more than usual. Is he doing chicks like it’s his job? Putting in over time?”

“I suppose you could say that,” agreed Castiel.

“Is it almost as if he’s got something to prove, little bro? Like maybe he’s trying to prove that he actually wants what they’re selling?”

“Gabe, he’s downstairs proving it to at least _two_ girls, as we speak.”

“Where are you?”

“My room.”

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out of the house. Don’t be there when he comes out of that room. I don’t care if you have to go sit in a cornfield, just don’t be at home.”

“I don’t understand. What good would it do me to sit in a cornfield?”

“It’s not about where you are, Castiel, it’s about him having to wonder where you are and who you’re with. Who knows what’s going on in that boy’s head. Maybe he’s just had enough for a while. Maybe he’s testing the brakes just to see if they still work. Maybe he’s not sure what he wants and he’s trying to figure it out. Who knows. But, regardless, if you’re always around, he never has a chance to miss you. He also never has a chance to see how rotten his life is without you. He never has a chance to get jealous of who you might be with.”

“I think I’m starting to understand.”

“That’s my boy,” said his older brother proudly. “Now, hang up and call me back when you’ve left.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not going to play games like that. Dean isn’t just some crush that I’m hoping will ask me out. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. I love him, Gabe. And if that means that I have to sit in my room and bide my time while he fucks other people, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“If you’re so sure of that, then why are you asking my advice?”

“No idea. Maybe I was just looking for sympathy.”

“Well, little bro, you have it. My sympathy, that is.”

“Thanks, Gabe.”

“No problem,” he sighed, “I honestly wish I could help.”

“I know you do.”

“Hey, I’ve got an idea!”

“What?”

“Spring break is coming up. Why don’t you come visit me in Cali? A change of scenery might do you some good.”

“That sounds… tempting.”

“Then come, Cassie, come for a visit. The bay area is fantastic. We’ll have a great time and get your mind off of things, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, feeling marginally better already.

“Text me the dates and I’ll get you a ticket.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. And if you don’t argue about it, I’ll let you pay our cover charge at every gay bar we hit while you’re here. Trust me, it’ll wind up being about the same as a plane ticket.”

Laughing now, Cas agreed. With his mood elevated, he said his goodbyes to his brother and hung up.

In the aftermath of their call, Cas sat on his bed in silence for a few minutes and thought about things. It was surprising how much his outlook was improving, simply because he now had something to look forward to.

Additionally, he had to admit that speaking with his brother had provided some helpful insights. Dean’s recent behavior had been confusing, and Cas’s brain had been on a relentless loop as he’d pondered it. But Gabe, someone who knew both him and Dean well, had tossed out several plausible justifications for Dean’s withdrawal that Cas had never even considered.

It seemed unlikely that Dean craved separation from Castiel. He wasn’t avoiding spending time together at all, he was simply omitting the sexual dynamic that had developed between them last fall. So, that theory was easy to discard. But, Gabe’s suggestion that Dean was desperately trying to prove to himself that he still wanted women? That one rang true. That was a bonafide possibility.

Another completely reasonable scenario was that Dean had been a bit bi-curious, as Gabe had said, but had now had his fill and decided that he preferred to indulge in the fairer sex. Maybe this thing between them had been an experiment of sorts, one that Dean only felt safe engaging in with his most trusted friend. That also made sense.

For some reason, as he considered these and many other possibilities, Castiel found himself feeling much more at peace. At his core, he loved Dean relentlessly and that would likely never change. Dean loved Cas too, in his way. So, no matter what happened between them, they’d always remain steadfast friends.

And, if Dean ever wanted to cross the line again, Cas wouldn’t hesitate. But if he never did… Cas would make his peace with that, too.

 

 


	6. One Mother of a Downside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Destiella, thank you again for your editing prowess. I'm so lucky to have you!

                                                            

 

Resigned to leaving things alone and allowing Dean to dictate the course of their relationship, Castiel did his best to bide his time by simply focusing on school for a while. He’d been slipping anyway, allowing his studies to take a back seat to the more exciting aspects of college. His last few papers had been less than stellar and he’d actually taken a deduction for being late on one of his assignments in molecular cell biology. Also, though his grade might still be respectable, Cas had been feeling guilty for a while now because he knew he could be making much more of an effort in his MCAT prep class.

Right up to the very night before his flight to California, Cas kept his nose to the grindstone. Despite the siren call of boisterous voices downstairs, he stayed at his desk in his room and forced himself to work.

Tonight, he kept his eye on the clock though. He was leaving for California in the morning and had yet to pack. Sadly, before he could pack, he actually had to do his laundry. Wishing he’d started on it a few days ago, Cas was now reduced to doing it all in one night. So, every hour, he got up from his desk and went downstairs with a plastic basket of dirty clothes in his hands. While downstairs, he’d trade his dirty clothes for the clean ones from the dryer, starting a new load before heading back up to his room with clean ones tucked into his basket.

The clock was creeping towards 8pm when he got up for the last time. This time, there were no more dirty clothes to carry down. He picked up the empty basket and headed down the steps with it.

When he reached the bottom and emerged into the living room, he was greeted by his friends who were getting ready to order a pizza. “You want in?” Dean asked him.

“Sure,” he agreed as he cut through towards the laundry room at the back of the house.

“What’cha want on it?” Dean hollered after him.

“Everything,” he called over his shoulder.

“Alright,” he heard Dean tell the guys, “me ‘n Cas want a half meat-lovers and half garbage pizza.”

Cas had always liked the ‘everything’ pizza. Since they were kids, Dean had always called it ‘garbage pizza’. He had no appreciation for veggies, always choosing the all meat option. Once the dryer was empty he took the wet clothes from the washer and shoved them into it, resetting the cycle.

Heading back up to his room with his basket of laundered items under his arm, Cas paused in the living room to hand Dean a ten dollar bill for his share of the pizza. “Are you still planning to take me to the airport in the morning?”

“Sure Cas. What time do we need to leave?”

“Seven.”

“Damn that’s early,” he growled, his eyes still locked on the video game he’d playing. “Do me a favor ‘n wake me when you get up, okay?”

“Of course, Dean.” And with that said, Cas turned from his friends and headed back to his room. He had one more assignment that needed to be submitted electronically by midnight or he’d be taking another deduction for it being late.

Sitting back down at the computer, he picked up where he’d left off. By the time he got back into his work, the others were calling him back downstairs because the food had arrived. Heading downstairs to join them, he mentally allowed himself some time to relax and hang out with his friends before having to return to his studies. It was nice to decompress with the guys a little, but because he’d done that, it was well after eleven when he finally submitted his work.

Though he’d meant to be done hours ago, he was just relieved to be finished with his work for the week. Now all he had left to do was pack his things and have a wonderful time in California.

A surge of excitement came over him as he pulled his suitcase out of the closet. Grabbing things from the pile of freshly laundered clothes on his bed, he began folding and filling up his small suitcase. It was actually more of a child’s size, but he was hopeful that it would be allowed as a carry-on item. He’d prefer not to check any bags for this trip if he could help it.

When he was content that he had all he needed, Cas jogged downstairs to grab his personal items from the bathroom. On his way through the living room he saw that most everyone had cleared out for the night. Only Benny remained, and he and Dean were consumed in an onscreen battle. They didn’t even notice him passing by.

Back upstairs, he closed up his case and moved on to the unhappy task of putting away the remainder of his clean clothes. Had they not been piled up on his bed, he would have likely skipped the task all together. But when he finally crawled between the sheets, he felt a strong sense of accomplishment. His schoolwork was finished, his room was clean, and he was ready to leave for an awesome spring break.

It would be hard, he thought, to be away from Dean for so long. But, as it turned out, it really wasn’t.

From the time he’d arrived at school as an incoming freshmen and all the way up to now, he’d only left campus to go home. Home, he’d come to find, now had the feel of a waiting room. It was a place where he had to bide his time when he’d really prefer to be elsewhere. It was also a place where he felt scrutinized. His parents had high hopes for him, and knowing that, Castiel didn’t want to disappoint them. It was strange to be so invested in what they thought of him, but he couldn’t help it. He craved their approval more than he’d ever admit outloud. Coming out to them hadn’t been easy, mostly for that reason.

His mother had been far more accepting then he’d expected and had even managed to smooth things over with his father, who had been far less supportive. Even thinking of it now, he felt a little bubble of love for her floating up in his chest. His parents were a real pain in his ass most days… and a lot of work in general. But they loved him and wanted only good things for him. The trouble was, they seemed incapable of recognizing that his version of ‘good things’ might be different from theirs. To the Novaks, his happiness was pinned on living his life exactly the way they would live it, if they were him. Strange.

The dynamic in his family was a complicated one, and it’s what he was pondering as he slowly fell asleep that night. When the alarm went off in the morning, Cas felt like he’d barely slept. But, excitement surged through him as he swung his legs out of the bed and put his feet to the floor. In less than ten hours, he’d be in California.

Thumping down the stairs eagerly, Cas laughed aloud when he found Dean asleep on the couch with a game stilled on the TV screen and his mouth gaping open. Feeling playful, he decided to wake Dean the fun way… the way he had often done back in their early teens. Ducking into the bathroom, he grabbed the shaving cream and squirted some into his palm. Back in the living room he bent over Dean’s sleeping form. His friend’s features were soft and gentle as he slept, one hand still loosely clutching a gaming controller. Grinning as he did it, Cas gently pushed foam from his own cupped hand into Dean’s empty resting one. Then, he put one finger to the scruff of Dean’s cheek. With a featherlite touch, he drew his finger back and forth hoping to simulate a tickle. The serenity disappeared from his friends face and he twitched a little in response, his eyebrows drawing together in a tense line. Cas smiled and continued to tickle at Dean’s stubble even as the guy’s chin twitched. Then, in one quick movement, Dean’s hand jerked to his face, blindly trying to flick away whatever was bothering him without coming fully awake. Shaving cream smeared onto him as it happened and Cas burst out laughing. He watched as Dean opened his eyes and lifted his head. As he woke and took stock of himself, he seemed to come to a slow understanding.  

“Fuck, man,” he spat. Cas, still laughing, stepped back just in case his friend might take a swipe at him in retaliation. “What are you? Twelve?”

“Rise ‘n shine,” chuckled Cas.

“No way,” growled Dean. “It’s more of a wake ‘n bake kinda day.”

“You’re driving me to the airport, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” replied Dean, rubbing his eyes as he sat up fully. “Dammit my neck hurts. How long til we gotta go?”

“We’ve got time.”

“Awesome. Make coffee, would ya? I’m gonna grab a shower.”

Watching as Dean fumbled to his feet and headed slowly to the bathroom, Cas gave his agreement. With Dean in the bathroom, Cas started a pot of coffee and poured himself a bowl of cereal. He was still eating it when Dean emerged, looking refreshed, with a towel around his waist.

“We in a hurry?” he asked as he passed by.

“No,” answered Cas around his mouthful. His eyes lingered on Dean’s form as the man walked away from him. Dean was sexy as hell, even when he wasn’t trying. To Cas, the privilege of seeing Dean Winchester a few times each week, glistening wet and wrapped only in a towel, was a notable perk of living together. Adding the occasional tryst had been even better.

Sighing deeply as he resumed eating, Cas could only hope that they’d one day return to that kind of dynamic. He may never know the reason why Dean had chosen to proposition him that first time, or what had made him decide to stop, but clearly the decision had been made. He’d just have to learn to accept it.

When he’d finished his breakfast, Cas headed into the bathroom for his turn. The shower was still dripping wet and the scent of Dean’s shampoo hung heavy in the air as Cas climbed in. Rubbing one out was inevitable, but he made it a quick one for fear that the hot water would run out. Afterwards, he dressed and tugged his suitcase down the stairs. Dean was perched on the couch waiting for him.

“You ready?” he asked, getting up and pulling on his leather jacket.

“Yes,” he answered enthusiastically.

“Ya don’t gotta look so damn happy,” grumbled Dean as they headed out to the car, “You’re the only one getting on a plane, ya know. Some of us have to go home today.”

“I can’t help it,” he defended as he pushed his suitcase into the back seat,  “besides, you wanted to go see Sammy, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed as he turned the key in the ignition, “but it’s not like there are palm trees and celebrities in my near future.”

“Celebrities? Where do you think I’m headed?” teased Cas. “I’m crashing in my brother’s dorm room. The best I can hope for is a hot roommate.”

Dean tilted his head in acknowledgement as that was said, but for some reason a strange tension descended in the air between them after that. Leaning in to turn on the radio, Dean scanned stations until he found one he liked. Then, with his thumbs drumming along on the wheel, Dean settled back into his seat and turned his attention to the road ahead.

When they arrived at the airport and pulled into the passenger drop off lane, Dean turned to Cas and winked disarmingly. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he chuckled.

In response, Cas grinned and said, “That doesn’t really leave much.”

With those words serving as their good-bye, Cas pulled his suitcase from the backseat and headed inside. The image of Dean’s sexy black car pulling away was framed in the glass door as Cas pulled it open and a pang of sadness washed over him. He was already missing his friend as he stepped into the brightly lit airport and the melancholy feeling stayed with him as he moved through security, waited to board, and settled into his seat. But, thankfully, by the time he’d landed in sunny California, his somber mood had begun to fade.

Gabe was waiting for him on the main concourse and, as he approached, Cas noticed that his older brother wasn’t alone. Standing next to him was a taller man and the two were engaged in conversation. Both were holding lidded paper coffee cups and looked as though they’d consulted one another as they’d gotten dressed that morning. Gabriel looked dapper in his cropped trousers, bare ankles, and shiny penny loafers. With a linen sport jacket over his form fitting v-neck, Cas thought his brother embodied a west-coast casual hipness that he’d only ever seen on movie and television stars.

As the distance closed between the brothers, Gabe caught sight of him for the first time and his face broke into a radiant grin. Taking the elbow of his companion, Gabe turned the man’s attention to Castiel. All three exchanged smiles as they came together and the moment they were in arm’s reach, Gabe was pulling him into a warm hug.

When they parted, Gabe turned to his friend and made an introduction. Cas smiled as he shook hands with the man who was clearly the older of the two.

“This is Zar,” Gabe was saying, “my friend and roommate.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Cas.

“Zar is short for Balthazaar,” the man informed him. “Balthazar Roche, and I’m not just the friend and roommate. I’m also the chauffeur, apparently.”

The man’s eyes were icy blue and he carried himself with an air of confidence that Cas found very attractive; the sexy accent didn’t hurt either. His apparel was artfully careless and obviously tailored to fit him perfectly, which Cas felt marked him as a person of means, or perhaps someone successfully impersonating it.

“Zar’s got wheels,” winked Gabe, “and he’s always a sport about driving me around.”

“Yes,” teased Zar, “I’m a sport for lending out many things to you, Gabriel. Your inability to repay them notwithstanding.”

“Repay?” parroted Gabe in mock horror. “What favors have I not repaid?”

“The car, the cash, the women and, oh yes, that bottle of cognac that you managed to not only empty but then revisit upon my best trousers.”

“Now I’ll give you the car and the cash,” laughed Gabe as he steered them all towards the exit, “but you can hardly blame me for the women or the cognac. I mean, I had no idea how much you’d paid for either.”

Cas burst out laughing as he watched their exchange. “How much was the cognac?” he asked.

“That’s your question?” interrupted his brother. “You’re not remotely interested in how much Zar will pay for sex? No, you’re asking about the alcohol.”

“Pay him no mind,” urged Zar with a wink. “He’s simply got his knickers in a twist because the spirits were priced higher than the company we kept that night.”

“Who does that?” squawked Gabe. “Who pays more for drinks than women?”

“One who knows he won’t remember the ladies in the morning,” quipped Zar as he pushed open the heavy glass door and held it for them.

“How much?” Cas asked again, “How much was the bottle?”

“Four seventy-five,” said the man on an exasperated sigh.

“And the girl?”

“Girls,” corrected Balthazaar as they headed towards the short term parking. “And I spent a total of five hundred and fifty on the ladies. So then, dear Gabriel, it would seem that everything is quite in proportion.”

“There were three girls,” said Gabe flatly from under a raised eyebrow. “That means your bottle cost almost as much as three ‘entertainers’.”

“I think what’s missing from this story is context,” said Zar. “Honestly, dear Castiel, neither the cost of the company or the spirits is nearly so important as the cost of the trousers I was wearing… since your brother covered myself and all three girls in his reeking vomit.”

“Well if you had told me how much that shit cost  BEFORE I started drinking, I could’ve saved you a grand.”

Cas was smirking as he watched his brother and Zar bantering. “I don’t even want to know how much the pants set you back,” he sighed.

As they entered the short term parking lot and walked between long rows of parked cars, the laughter died down and Gabe began to discuss the plans he’d made for their time together. “I figured you could come back to school with us for tonight and tomorrow. There’s a few things I still have to be around for. But then,” he added with an eye waggle, “then we’re heading into the city to stir up some trouble.”

Just as that was being said, Zar came to a stop. Cas let out a low whistle as he took in the car that they were about to climb into. It was incredible. All Cas could think was that Dean would’ve loved it.

“What year is this?” he asked as Zar popped the trunk.

“It’s a 74,” the man replied as he took Cas’s suitcase and tucked it cautiously into the trunk. “It was the last year they made this model and, coincidentally, the first year my father was finally able to buy himself a sports car. First he had to save up the silver to buy one, then he had to convince my mum that it wasn’t a frivolous indulgence.”

The man was graceful in his movements as he closed up the trunk and moved to the driver’s seat. Cas followed Gabe around to the passenger side.

“When Jag first rolled these out,” continued Zar, “they were strictly two seaters. But a few years in, they added the 2 x 2 models. With four seats, it was officially viable for a man with his first child on the way. The rest, as they say, is history. This car was one of the first things my parents bought when their business took off and they were quids in. Not long after that, they moved stateside.”

“So you were born here?” Cas asked as he wedged himself into the back seat and tried to look comfortable. It wasn’t easy. He felt like his knees were pinned to his chest.

“I was,” the man nodded to him in the rear view mirror. “Stayed here for my tender years, but they shipped me back to England for boarding school as soon as it was proper.”

“How was that?”

“Oh it was swell most days,” sighed Zar with a wistful smile.

“A school with no girls,” chuckled Gabe as he climbed in front, “sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me.”

“We made due,” the man laughed, “and with a lot less effort.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” countered Gabe.

“Do you remember it fondly?” asked Zar.

“What? High school girls?”

“No,” frowned Zar, “the work you had to put in before they would put out. Tell me, Gabriel, how many hours did you invest with the one who finally gave you your first blowie, hmm?”

“A few,” conceded Gabe as Zar started up the car.

“A fair few, I imagine,” the man grinned knowingly. “How about your first shag? Dare I even ask? Well, let me tell you… for my first blowie I just looked over at me mate and asked him. ‘Quid pro quo,’ he said, and that was that.”

Again there was laughter, soon drowned out by engine noise. The Jag, Cas noticed, had a similar rumble to Dean’s beloved Impala, but it wasn’t nearly as loud. It practically purred. With the top down, Cas found himself enjoying the ride despite being a bit cramped. They looped around and fell into traffic as they exited the airport grounds.

Castiel had landed in Oakland which was connected to San Francisco by bridge. But, as they accessed the interstate, Cas found out that they weren’t heading that way. Gabe’s school, as it turned out, was actually far to the north, over an hour from the city.

As they traveled, Cas watched the scenery changing around him with unabashed curiosity. For a while, the bay was to his left, and Cas took it all in. The salty air, an occasional boat on the water, and the vast openness of it all stretching out for miles under the midday sun. Overall, there were far fewer palm trees than he’d been expecting. In fact, once the water was no longer visible, this freeway could’ve been almost anywhere. Trees and shrubs dotted the landscape. Towns came and went with signs and exits at each juncture. Things were far less green than he’d imagined, an equal amount of brown, dry grass here as he often saw back in the midwest. Overall, he thought that the land looked dry and thirsty. But, constant elevations kept his surroundings interesting to look at.

When they crossed the Carquinez bridge, he was told that they were getting close to wine country. He’d been enjoying the ride so far, getting to know Zar and catching up with his brother. As they continued on, the congestion and traffic was left behind in favor of small and winding roads. Meandering through the valley, the scenery was picturesque. Their vintage roadster wound between small hills and groves of trees. Wildflowers rose from the grasses which were a little greener here, and the air smelled sweet instead of salty. The reduced speed that came with departing the freeway for two lane roads tamed the whipping wind a bit, and made conversation easier. So Cas ventured to ask Balthazaar what had led him to choose the Culinary Institute where Gabe had become his roommate.

“Well,” he said, meeting Castiel’s eye in the rear view mirror again, “I may have mentioned that my parents came stateside to expand their business. No need to go too deeply into that, other than to say that their newfound money and status came without warning labels. I’m sure it wasn’t easy transitioning like that, but needless to say, I wasn’t always their top priority. I suppose you could say I turned into a bit of a ‘little boy lost’. By the time they realized I was out of control, I’d burned almost every bridge there was to burn. I’d been kicked out of uni over there, and couldn’t get accepted to a reputable school America. I had a coke habit three years strong and an arrest record to match.”

Cas had no idea what to even say. He glanced over at Gabe and saw his brother nodding along. This was clearly a story he’d heard before.

Continuing as though he didn’t notice the uncomfortable silence, Zar concluded by saying, “I was twenty six when I was sentenced to a treatment facility. It was a locked ward… like prison only with more emotional baggage… and perhaps a bit less sodomy.”

Everyone gave a cursory chuckle as Balthazaar tried to lighten the heavy tone of his story. “Anyway, when I came out of there, I was determined to try and make myself into someone that my parents could be proud of. Someone that I could be proud of. So, I tried art school. My father threw enough money at the admissions department that I was eventually accepted into a program at Full Sail. But even that wasn’t without its own problems.”

“Like what?”

“Temptation, mostly. I relapsed.”

“And then what?” pressed Cas, eager to know more..

“Well, I did another stint in rehab. But this time, I checked _myself_ in. Perhaps that was the difference. I’m not really sure. But when I got out we went to dinner, my parents and I. It was the best meal I’d had in quite some time and I got to thinking about how much food affects us… how it comforts us, how it excites us, how it enhances the time we spend with others. So, while still living with my parents, I took a cooking class. It seemed like a nice way to meet people and I needed to make some new friends. All of mine were addicts by then, you see.

“That cooking class opened my eyes. I’d had no idea what kind of creativity was really involved in food preparation until then. And I’ll tell you, I was smitten from the very start. I just _had_ to learn more. The more I learned, the more I began to realize how little I still knew. I was completely inspired.”

Cas watched from the backseat as Zar and Gabe shared a knowing look. For a brief moment, it was impossible not to wonder if perhaps the two had more in common than the desire to work with food. Had Gabe struggled with addiction too? It wasn’t a far fetched idea… Gabe was a glutinous guy by nature. Whatever he was having, he always wanted more, more, more. Willfully, he put the thought out of his mind and followed up on his conversation with Zar.

“So you enrolled in culinary school?” Cas prompted.

“Yes, and my father was so pleased with my progress that he gifted me this car. It was always his pride and joy. It means far more to me than the tuition that he pays or the bloated allowance he gives me. Money is nothing to him these days. But this car? This car mattered to him. And he gave it to me. I’m going to make him proud.”

“And he’ll be proud if you’re a chef?” asked Cas, thinking of the parallel to his own parents. He didn’t mean it to be condescending, but perhaps it had sounded like that because Gabe shot him a look.

“I mean,” clarified Zar, “he’ll be proud of me if I’m happy in life - without needing drugs.”

Cas nodded his understanding and felt the conversation come to a close. It seemed a bit strange to hear a confession like that from a man who’d been joking about drunken debauchery with hookers only an hour ago. But then again, there was a world of difference between a bottle of cognac and an eightball of cocaine. Even with the hookers in tow, the night he’d been referring to when he’d joked with Gabe was probably pretty tame compared to those of his early twenties. Zar was probably twenty eight by now, based on the chronology of his back story, but due to his weathered features, he looked thirty at least.

Glancing around now, Cas saw that they were passing another winery. Rows and rows of plants neatly supported by stakes gave away the nature of the business, even if there was no signage to label it as such. A small cluster of buildings, barely visible from the road, were the only indication that there was a homestead or business amidst the gentle rolling hills and neatly manicured fields.

Moments later, they were crawling slowly down the streets of a picturesque little town. Gabe was pointing out places they’d eaten and bars they favored. The streets were lined with perfectly trimmed trees and flawless lawns. Every house was artfully maintained and worthy of being captured in an oil painting.  

“Wow,” he whispered, “this place is amazing.”

“Yep,” smirked Gabe up front, “Can you believe the folks gave me a hard time about coming here? Man, New York doesn’t hold a candle to this place.”

Coming out of St. Helena, the view was breathtaking. Vineyards blanketed the countryside for as far as the eye could see. Even as he drank in the sight, they were turning into the campus.

“Wow,” breathed Cas again. “This is the school?”

“Sure is,” said Gabriel proudly.

The natural stone walls blended perfectly into the scenery and what appeared to be a massive French estate towered over them as they wound around the main parking lot and came around the side. The word dormitory, it seemed, was used loosely here. This place looked more like a honeymoon destination than a school. Draped with mature trees, the property boasted scenic vistas at every turn. The ‘campus’ bore no resemblance to what Castiel had expected.

Once parked, Zar retrieved Cas’s suitcase and they headed into what appeared to be a sprawling home, but was in fact divided into student quarters. The space being shared by his brother and Zar was the size of a small apartment. It had high ceilings and huge windows which looked out over the wine country. They didn’t have bunk beds like most of the dorm rooms on Cas’s campus did… these guys each had a real, full sized bed and their own bathroom.

“I have to hand it to you, Gabe, you knew what you were doing when you came out here.”

“Sure did, baby bro. And just you wait… tomorrow, I’m going to cook for you.”

“You are?”

“Well, you and everyone else from four to six.”

“It’s part of the structure here,” added Zar. “We use what we’ve learned in class to plan and execute meals for other students, and even the customers in the restaurants. Everyone who eats can critique what we’ve made, how we presented it, and how we handled our staff.”

Both Gabe and Zar seemed utterly content with their life here and Cas was quite moved to see his brother so happy.

Once he’d gotten settled, they all headed down for dinner. Again, Cas was flabbergasted by the difference between his college experience and the one his older brother was having.

“We don’t eat like this,” he told Gabe as he looked at his plate. The food was colorful and beautifully garnished, its positioning on the dish well thought out. Every bite was heaven. Around him, the other students ate like diners in a five star restaurant. There was no brash laughter or crude joking around. Soft music was playing in the background, and, surrounding them while they ate, were only the hushed sounds of conversation and the clinking of wine glasses. It was quite relaxing.

With dessert still melting on his tongue, Cas leaned back in his seat and let the gentlemen fill him in on the plans for their time on ‘campus’. Still amazed that this was actually a campus and not some kind of resort, Castiel found himself continually more and more impressed with the Culinary Institute.

That night, he slept on an air mattress on Gabe’s floor. It was only then that his mind drifted to Dean. He wondered what his friend was doing tonight. He was back in Lawrence by now, of that Cas was sure. Was he staying up late with his brother? Were they sitting in their dark paneled living room on a sagging couch to play video games? Was there laughter and good times? Or were they tucked away in Sam’s room behind a locked door as they waited out one of John Winchester’s drunken rages? If his phone hadn’t been on a charger across the room, Cas might’ve sent his friend a quick message to see how he was. But instead, he sank into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The next few days were wonderful. Gabe had no classes this week, also on spring break, but he had several things keeping him busy. He had two ‘shifts’ in the restaurant which for him seemed to be both exhilarating and stressful beyond the telling of it. Never had he imagined how much planning and preparation could go into a single meal… even when serving so many.

Sitting at a table with Zar and tasting food made by his brother was an unexpected novelty. Now that he understood exactly how much time and effort Gabe had put into the meal, Cas found himself paying special attention to the flavors and textures so that he’d be able to compliment his brother later. Gabriel, of course, was full of flippant wisecracks when Cas offered his praises, but he could tell that his words had meant a great deal.

Aside from his commitments in the schools kitchens over break, Gabe was also part of a student club which had a meeting scheduled during Cas’s visit. Rather than join his brother for that, Cas chose to let Zar show him around the grounds. As they walked, he found himself pausing at the The Rudd Center for Professional Wine Studies. Compared to the dry lecture halls of his own campus, an entire building devoted to wine was surreal. As he contemplated his reaction, he realized that until coming here,  he’d entertained a very narrow view of what education was about. He’d known on some level that not all education took place in stuffy lecture halls and laboratories, but it wasn’t until this moment that he’d given any thought to the differences.

He was further encouraged to think on the matter as he walked through classrooms with Zar that were filled with mixers and ovens, restaurant seating, and other things that seemed obvious in hindsight. He chuckled to himself as his mind flicked through several examples of classrooms that would probably seem foreign to him… cosmetology, for instance, would probably have learning spaces filled with sinks and chemical dyes. Equestrian studies probably had classes in barns, arenas, and veterinary clinics.

He mulled these things over as he toured the campus with Zar and came to realize that he’d been every bit as small minded as his parents had been when considering his education. He’d reviewed the short lists of viable career choices they’d given him as though those paths were the only ones to consider. In reality, he had so many choices that it was difficult to comprehend them all. In fact, had it not been for Dean insisting they go to school together, he’d never have even considered the school he now attended.

The tour was over long before Cas was done thinking of the vast array of choices he really had in school and in life. So, turning his attention to Zar as they headed back to the room, Cas promised himself to give the matter more thought in the future.

When they finally packed up the car and headed off to San Francisco on the third day, Cas almost didn’t want to leave. Being surrounded by tranquil scenery and fed delectable cuisine had lulled him into a state of utter contentment.

It was also heartening to see his brother live out a dream. Without all the formalities and traditions that bound them in their childhood home, Cas could easily see the man’s free-spirited nature emerging here in California. Zar enhanced that too, continually indulging Gabriel’s fun-loving and theatrical side. Back at home, that part of his brother was well hidden, and for good reason… it would have scared the shit out of their parents. Too much free thinking or impassioned living was an enemy of the kind of fruitful progress they touted as happiness and satisfaction. No wonder being around them had always felt so oppressive.

In contrast to their days in the Napa Valley, the chaos of San Francisco was unnerving at first. But it was clear as they checked into their hotel room that Zar and Gabe had been quite serious when they’d talked of their plans to corrupt him. Over the next few nights, Cas drank and danced himself into oblivion. The fact that both his brother and Zar identified as straight didn’t seem to inhibit their ability to make the most of their experiences in gay bars. They laughed and joked as they flirted with unsuspecting men who bought them drinks. They tucked singles into the thongs of sweaty dancers at strip clubs, and continually encouraged Castiel to follow their lead. Zar and Gabe were quite mischievous when drinking and Cas never tired of their antics. He didn’t even mind being cajoled into considering every man who hit on him that was even remotely attractive.

For Cas, these nights out were some of the best he’d ever had. The liberating feeling of anonymity that stemmed from being a thousand miles from anyone he knew kept Cas feeling indulgent. He didn’t hesitate to dance when asked, he didn’t pause to consider who was watching or what they thought of him, and he didn’t push away hands that lingered on his body as he moved with his various partners.

By the end of their first night out together, Cas also knew he could trust his older brother to keep an eye out for him. He came to realize this when he was swept off his feet by a handsome stranger he’d been grinding with on the dancefloor. Carried away and drunk on freedom as well as expensive drinks, Cas had willingly allowed himself to be pulled towards the back room under the pretense of finding some ‘privacy’. In hindsight, he had no doubt that he would’ve been easily coerced into some risky behaviors that night had Gabe and Zar not intervened. They had bodily blocked the way, Zar peeling Cas’s partner away from him while Gabe had talked Cas down from doing something stupid.

In contrast, strip clubs where a place where his guides indulged his young and horny side. Zar dropped his plastic half a dozen times during their stay, perhaps more, simply for the pleasure of telling Cas he was getting yet another lap dance.

Though the vast majority of the venues they hit were gay themed for Cas’s benefit, the older boys managed to divert to hetero bars on occasion, flirting their way through the crowds and joking about ‘no standards during spring break’. Being out so late each night kept them in bed until after lunch most days, but they did eventually leave their room daily for sightseeing trips. They spent an afternoon in Chinatown and rode a cable car, explored Fisherman’s Wharf and shopped for souvenirs. The most predictable thing they did was take the boat ride out to Alcatraz and the most memorable thing they did was drive the Golden Gate in Zar’s convertible. Tipping his head back to look up at the cable work was dizzying. The striking orange lines overhead cut through the grey haze above, towering over them and leaving him feeling dwarfed. Cas loved it. The city was larger than life, and completely enthralling. 

All told, it was a fabulous time. And all the while, Cas never tired of Gabe’s antics or Zar’s hilarious stories. It was sad to bid them goodbye when his time was up. As they fell into a group hug at the airport, Castiel had to work to hold back tears. Pulling apart wasn’t easy.

“Love ya, baby bro,” whispered Gabe as they did.

“You too,” he choked out as he backed away. “It was nice to have met you Zar,” added Cas with a quivering chin as he turned to go.

Once he’d boarded and taken his seat, there was much to think about on the flight home. But, what dominated his thoughts more than anything else was how quickly he’d been able to distract himself from Dean Winchester while he’d been away. Sure, they’d exchanged a few texts over the course of the week, but Dean had been surprisingly absent from Castiel’s thoughts as he’d enjoyed his visit with Gabriel. Certainly part of that had been the good company he’d kept and their non-stop adventures. But it was impossible not to admit the obvious… that getting over Dean would be much easier with some distance.

On some level, he’d known that all along. But now, with his visit behind him, there was no denying it. If Castiel really wanted to move on with his life, find someone to love who could love him back, he had to move away. Keeping Dean as a constant fixture in his life was keeping him from really living it.

How far did he need to go? He had no clue. In reality, a move across campus would probably be better than nothing. But now, with all the enticements of the west coast fresh in his mind, Cas couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be better off leaving the midwest entirely. Perhaps looking into the University of San Francisco would be a good idea. From there, acceptance into UCSF wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. It certainly wasn’t on the short list of schools his father would be excited about, but it’s viability as a top ranked medical school could not be denied. A move like that would likely please his parents a great deal, his brother even more, and it would be good for him. Very good. Honestly, the matter was worth further thought.

Once Cas had landed back in the land of harsh winters and short summers, the journey caught up with him and he found himself suddenly exhausted to his core as he plodded through the airport.

Dean was waiting for him at the curb when he stepped out the glass doors. Leaning on his sleek ride, one ankle crossed over the other, arms folded over his chest, Dean was the very picture of carefully constructed apathy.

“Heya buddy,” he grinned, pushing away from his baby.

Cas’s answering smile was a warm one. He couldn’t think of anything to say in the moment, but his heart fluttered in his chest as Dean pulled him into a bear hug.

“It’s only been a week,” mumbled Cas when they stepped back, “you make it seem like I’ve been gone for so long.”

“It was long,” Dean sighed as he walked around to the driver’s side, “too damn long.”

“I got you something,” said Cas, laying his suitcase in the back seat. He tugged out Dean’s souvenir and held it up. It was a black t-shirt with the image of a crab on it in white. Cas had picked it up on Fisherman’s Wharf when they’d eaten dinner at a seafood place on the pier. Over the image of the crab was the restaurants logo and in bold letters the shirt proclaimed, “I GOT CRABS IN SAN FRANCISCO.”

Cas handed the shirt to Dean as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Dude,” laughed Dean as he looked it over, “this is fuckin’ awesome, man.” Laying the shirt down in his lap, Dean then put the idling car in drive and eased away from the curb. The ride back to campus was all it took for Cas to remember the many reasons he could never move to California - Dean’s eyes, for starters. The way they shone in the sunshine, clear and bright, Cas could actually feel a tightness in his chest when those eyes settled on him. The way they locked on Cas sometimes, as if he was the only one who really mattered. How could he leave that behind?

Dean’s shoulders were another argument against leaving… the way they held the weight of the world so effortlessly. All the worries that the man harbored over his father and brother, all the sadness he carried around from losing his mother, the inner fears that plagued him that he rarely let anyone else see, there was just so much damned weight on those shoulders. But still, they stayed square and strong. Cas had more respect for Dean than anyone else he’d ever known and he couldn’t imagine a future where he didn’t have that strong set of shoulders within reach. Often, Dean needed a reassuring pat on one of those shoulders - how could Cas possibly leave and not be around to give it?

If Cas wanted to go, his friend would never dream of interfering. He’d be supportive even if he hated the idea. That was just one more thing that Cas loved about the man. He had bravado in spades. At times it was infuriating. Like, when he was wrong and knew it, yet still kept arguing as though he were right. But at the end of the day, that bravado was what led Dean’s charge into life’s battles. His unwavering inner courage was what followed silently behind it. And once Cas had really seen that, fighting his feelings for Dean had been pointless. To this day, he’d never forgotten how truly brave his friend was.

Cas had to admit it to himself… he was in it like quicksand, this love, and he was lost to it - would likely drown in it. But still, he’d choose it a hundred times over.

Yes, thoughts of California had been enticing. Logical, even. But once he’d gotten back into Dean’s car, Cas knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Dean asked as they pushed in through the front door.

“Nothing, I guess.”

“You okay? You were frickin’ quiet all the way home.”

“Yes, Dean, I’m just tired I guess.”

With that, he hefted his suitcase up the stairs. Leaving it just inside the doorway, he flopped down on his bed. _Home sweet misery_ , he thought to himself.

A bit of sleep seemed to be what he’d needed. He woke feeling rested, if not a bit disoriented. It was dark out and and though the clock on his nightstand said that it was ten o’clock, Cas had absolutely no idea what day it even was. Racking his brain as he sat up, he eventually remembered that this was Sunday night. He had classes in the morning.

Still feeling listless and tired, he decided that he may as well just go back to sleep for the night. Kicking off his shoes and wiggling out of his pants, Cas crawled back into bed and set his alarm, falling straight back to sleep when his head hit the pillow.

By morning, he was well rested, but for some reason time seemed sluggish as he went about his day. Consoling himself that he was probably just coming down from the high he’d been riding while on vacation, he managed to settle into his old routine. As he did, the feeling of lethargy faded from his notice entirely.

The final leg of the school year was in full swing now and Cas had to commend himself for sticking with his studies. The classes he was taking were challenging and it was no small feat to keep himself working so diligently when those around him put in such minimal effort in order to get by.

He was planning to take the MCAT, his medical school admission test, over the summer. That way when school started next year, he could focus on the multi-stage process of actually applying to medical school. Getting a head start on that was important, his mentor had advised, because in the future his focus would need to be on his studies in order to keep his GPA strong as the classes became increasingly difficult. That meant that his study time in this spring semester was heavily weighted with MCAT prep in addition to homework. Sadly, he had even less time with his friends now than he’d had before.

Last night, for example. Thursday nights were often a drinking night for Cas’s peers because most of them had light schedules on Fridays, some having just one class. But for Cas, Thursday nights weren’t the beginning of the weekend. While others were hitting bars, he still had hours and hours of studying to do. Last night he’d been frustrated while studying because of all the noise coming from downstairs. As usual, the hours that he’d requested be kept quiet for studying had been disregarded. But when he was honest with himself, it was hard to tell if he was actually irritated by the infraction itself or if he was simply angry that he wasn’t free to go down and join the fun.

Was it really fair to always try and force Dean to live the life of a pre-med student when he wasn’t one? Not really. On some level, he knew that. He also knew that he could study elsewhere if he really needed to. Perhaps that’s why he’d been living in this house with Dean for two years and had never really said anything about the noise.

When he’d finally finished his work last night, he’d gone downstairs. But by then, most everyone had cleared out. Dean and Ron had been into a game that Cas didn’t care to play or watch, so he’d simply grabbed a snack and headed back up to his room. Despite missing so much of the social aspect of school, Cas did enjoy the feeling of accomplishment that usually accompanied him properly following through on his work as planned.

This morning he’d awakened refreshed and feeling good about things, so he went downstairs. The house was quiet and Dean’s door was shut. Normally, cooking was Dean’s thing. Cas rarely bothered. But today he had a raging craving for an omelette and Dean was clearly still in bed. So, he headed for the kitchen in his boxers as he contemplated making breakfast.

Scratching at his bed head while standing with the refrigerator door open, he surveyed their inventory and was pleased to see that they had everything he needed. Pulling the ingredients out, he stacked them into his arms and balanced carefully on his way to a clean section of the counter. Starting with the veggies, Cas began chopping and preparing all the components. Then, he started a pan heating and crumbled some sausage into it.

As he waited for meat to brown, Cas ventured back into the living room to turn on the television. Skipping to the bottom of the menu, he selected a music station. Yes, Dean was likely still asleep, but no one ever policed the volume for Cas, so he didn’t bother either. He cranked up the tune a bit so he’d be able to hear it clearly in the kitchen and then returned to drain the grease from his cooked meat. Setting the fried sausage aside, he gave the pan a quick wash and returned it to the burner. Turning down the heat, he then whisked eggs and milk together with some salt and poured the mixture into the skillet. Adding the veggies, meat, and cheese, he lidded the pan to stand waiting with a spatula as it all cooked together. It smelled incredible.

While he waited, Cas decided to check if Dean wanted any. After all, his friend always offered him food… it only seemed fair. Returning to the living room, he muted the television so he’d be able to hear Dean’s response when he shouted through his door. But, in the sudden silence, he heard something. A salacious moan.

Castiel’s ears pricked up. But, the sound cut off mid-way through, as the owner of that throaty voice had suddenly realized that there was no noise to cover it. Pausing a few steps from Dean’s door, Cas listened intently but heard nothing further.

“Dean?” he called out, knocking lightly, “I’m making omelettes, would you like one?”

In response, he thought he heard a muffled voice ask something along the lines of, “What’s in it?”

Opening the door a crack, Cas poked his head in to list the ingredients he had out. But before any sound could come out of his mouth, it froze in the shape of an “O” as his eyes stumbled upon something he couldn’t make sense of at first… and then couldn’t look away from.

The skin of a naked body had greeted him, though that wasn’t necessarily unusual when living with Dean. What had shocked Cas was the flash of hot pink that was wrapped snugly around Dean’s groin. The image burned itself into his retinas and his brain simultaneously discarded the image out of respect and clung to it greedily.

Dean, seeming just as shocked as Cas, reached out to snatch a blanket from the bed. Using it to shield himself from sight, he shouted, “What the fuck, Cas?”

“I- I just was saying -

“Dude, I don’t give a fuck! Get out!”

“I’m sorry,” he fumbled, retracting his head from the doorway. “I’m so sorry.” Pulling the door closed as he backed out, Cas never even let go of the door knob. He rested his head on the exterior of Dean’s door once it was shut and breathed deeply as he came to grips with what he’d seen.

Dean. Nude from head to toe with one exception. Dean. Masculine star of Cas’s dirtiest fantasies. Dean Winchester. Dean. Fucking. Winchester. In panties. Skimpy pink ones. Cas was half hard in his boxers as he fought the eroticism of the moment and willed his body to let go of what he’d seen - at least for now.

 _Go back to the kitchen_ , he told himself. _You’re probably burning your omelette_. His brain was trying to reason with him, but his body simply wouldn’t listen. Feet remained planted and his hand still clenched the doorknob.

“I - I’m sorry,” he managed to croak out feebly, again.

Suddenly, the doorknob turned under his hand. Startled, he leapt back. The door swung open and there was Dean. He had the blanket wrapped around his middle now, and when Cas met his friends gaze, he saw repentance there.

“Don’t be sorry,” said Dean softly. “I shouldn’t have yelled. You don’t deserve it, man. I was just…” Cas thought Dean looked sheepish. An intense blush was coloring his cheeks and he bit at his lip in the few beats between words before he finally said, “... well, fuck it, right? I’m busted and we both know it.”

“I was just going to tell you that it was sausage,” Cas replied matter-of-factly.

“Huh?”

“I offered you an omelette and you asked what was in it.”

“No, I said I’d be out in a minute,” chuckled Dean nervously.

“Oh, I guess, through the door -

“Yeah, um, you wouldn’t… I mean… you won’t say anything about this, right?”

“Why would I?”

“Dunno,” he answered, scratching at the back of his head. “I mean, we tell embarrassing stories about each other all the time. I figured this was fair game.”

“No Dean, this is private. It will stay between us.”

“Thanks, buddy,” he managed, the tension in his body relaxing minutely. “I guess I owe ya one.”

“You owe me shit,” said Cas firmly. “But for what’s it’s worth, Dean, I wish you didn’t feel so guilty. If you like wearing them, you should just wear them. Honestly,” added Cas, gesturing to the blanket Dean was covering himself with, “I didn’t think it was in your nature to hide like this.”

“Hide?”

“Yes. I mean, when have you ever? Normally if someone catches you in an embarrassing moment, you just put on that sexy smirk of yours and own it.”

“This is different,” Dean confided softly. “This means admitting that I’m… different.”

“Everybody’s different, Dean. And for what it’s worth, I think you look incredible in them.” The words were gone before he could slow or stop them, even think them through. If he could have retracted them, he would’ve. But once they were out, it was too late. He dropped his eyes to the floor at his feet, no longer able to look Dean in the eye. Backing away slowly, he turned with the intention of fleeing to the kitchen.

“Wait,” said Dean firmly, his hand reaching out a beat too slow and grasping nothing. Pausing mid-step, Cas looked back towards his friend. Dean's hand still hovered in the vacant space between them. Cas watched as his friend took a deep breath and then spoke on it’s exhale. “Ya really think so?” 

“I do,” Cas admitted, poised to flee.

“Then c’mere,” he said, taking a step back. The door to his room was left open - a wordless invitation. The man’s gaze was no longer timid, but hopeful. And then, as Cas stood looking on, Dean dropped the blanket.

Cas’s heart was hammering in his rib cage so violently that it was nearly painful and the blood it was pumping surged through his veins, carrying adrenaline to every cell in his body. Alive like he’d never been, Cas crossed the space between them to take what was being offered without a second thought. Barreling into Dean, Cas wrapped arms around the man and clamped his hands to those pert ass cheeks. The silky smoothness of the material beneath his fingers drove him mad with lust and the thud of Dean’s broad back hitting the wall was his first indication that he’d actually slammed the man against it. Grunting from the force of the impact, Dean cursed aloud and clutched his hands to Cas’s shoulders. Bare legs spread for him and Cas slid between them as Dean slumped down onto his thigh and went boneless.

With nothing between them but cotton boxers and silken panties, Cas rutted into Dean with reckless abandon. Dean tilted his head, offering Cas his neck and without preamble, Cas opened up and locked his mouth onto the soft skin there. Sucking ferociously, Cas ground his hips into Dean, his body needy and expectant as Dean moaned for him. The sound of it was deep, guttural, and animalistic. At his core, Cas’s body answered the sound with it’s own version, the vibration of it remaining trapped in his chest and throat since his mouth was still latched onto Dean’s neck.

“Fuck, Cas,” groaned Dean, his head thumping back against the wall again, “just go on and fuck me. I’m so sick of pretending I don’t want it.”

“Dean,” Cas panted as he came up for air, “Oh Dean, you don’t even know do you… you’ll be the end of me.”

“Wanna be,” his friend husked into his ear. “Wanna give it up for you.”

“Can’t,” whispered Cas, his hips slowing but still supporting Dean’s weight as he pressed the man into the wall. “I just… I can’t do it.”

“C’mon man,” Dean pleaded desperately, his voice raw with emotion, “I need it. I do, man. I fuckin’ need it so bad and you’re the only one I trust to even ask, let alone bend over for.”

“I want to. You know I do,” whispered Cas, his fevered lips spreading ardent kisses along Dean’s collar bone. At that moment, Cas felt Dean heft his legs up and they wrapped around his middle like a vice.

“We both want it,” growled Dean, “what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Sensing a growing anger behind the challenge, Dean’s need building unchecked and demanding to be sated, Cas untangled one arm so he could raise his hand to Dean’s head and push fingers into the man’s hair. Only in the front, right above his forehead, was there enough hair to actually grasp ahold of. Fisting it tightly, Cas tugged Dean’s head back. Settled as he was over Cas’s hip, the man was actually shorter for once. Forcing Dean to look up at him for the first time since they’d touched, Cas found his voice. With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, he stared into Dean’s wild eyes and used his most commanding voice to solicit his friend. “You really want it, Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“You want me to give it to you?”

“Yeah, Cas, I do.”

“Then you shut the fuck up for once and take it how I give it.”

A flash of doubt seemed to cross Dean’s mind as that was said, but in the twinkling of an eye, all fear was gone. Dean gave a firm nod, not speaking because he’d accepted Cas’s order to be silent. Dean’s consent, combined with his submission, seemed to incite Castiel’s voracious sexual appetite and before he could even hesitate, he was bucking his hips forward to dislodge Dean’s weight. The man was responsive to him, eyes glued to his as he found his legs. Cas kept their bodies close as Dean took on his own weight again, just in case the man should falter. But he didn’t.

When he was certain of their footing, Cas stepped back and spun Dean towards the wall. The man’s palms caught his weight as he was thrust forward and Cas left just one hand on Dean. It rested heavily at the small of his friend’s back, wordlessly instructing Dean to hold that position. He used the distance between them to finally drink in an unobstructed view of the man’s toned body, completely nude with the obvious exception of sinfully sexy lingerie.

“You’re so fucking hot, Dean,” husked Cas, shoving his free hand down into his own boxers. “Do you even know what you’re doing to me in those fucking panties?”

Dean was breathing heavily, but he didn’t answer. He simply dipped his head forward and rested his forehead against the wall. Staying still, he waited and let Cas take his time looking him over. As his eyes roved over Dean’s body, gravitating again and again to his shapely ass, cradled in luxurious shimmering fabric, he freed himself from the confines of his cotton boxers, stroking his own engorged cock a few times just to relieve the ache of want in him.

Surprised by the clarity of his own mind in this moment, Castiel found himself visualizing what he wanted to do with Dean and took stock of the room around him. Having now met this new side of Dean, it seemed a sure bet that there was lube in his room somewhere. Looking around, he wondered where it might be. He was certain that it wasn’t tucked conveniently into a nightstand drawer like Cas’s was... within arms reach of his bed along with his toys and a box of tissues. No way. Someone who was ashamed of his desires, as Dean seemed to be, would’ve cautiously hidden anything associated with them.

“Where is it?” he growled, wanting to save the time it would take him search for it. “Where’s the lube?”

“In my boots,” Dean answered, turning his head to stare in the direction of his closet.

“Of course it is,” chuckled Cas, thinking of Dean’s cowboy boots. In all these years, his friend had worn them only twice. In fact, it had been odd to see that Dean had even bothered packing them when they’d moved here. Perhaps his friend had been hiding something in them all along, while Cas had just thought they were gathering dust at the back of his closet.  

When Cas turned to go and fetch what he needed, he didn’t pull his hand away quickly. Instead, he slowly slid it down, dragging two fingers along the center of Dean’s back. As his touch dropped lower, Dean’s body visibly tensed in anticipation and it was impossible to hold back the wicked grin that Cas felt spreading across his own face when his fingertips bumbled over the edging of the material and proceeded to trace the line of Dean’s crack through them.

When Cas’s touch finally ran itself out and fell away, Dean’s rear pushed out a bit, hungry for more.

“Don’t move, Dean,” he warned forcefully, “not one inch.” Then, with his fingers still wrapped around his own shaft, Cas moved across the carpet on silent bare feet. Dropping to one knee at the threshold of the closet, he reached out for the tall, decorative leather boots. From the toe of the left one, he retrieved a small bottle of Astroglide. As he rose to his feet again, the image of Dean in cowboy boots and assless chaps flitted to mind. It was so sexy that Cas shivered from head to toe.

Anticipation filled him as he returned to take his place behind Dean. The snap of the little purple flip top cap seemed disproportionately loud in the tense quiet of the bedroom. Watching his own hand reach out was surreal. Fingers, his fingers, touched pink silk. Sliding them over the material, Cas teased his way around, making Dean wait. Only when the man’s ass pressed backwards expectantly did he finally slip a finger inside the slinky undies and tug them down just a bit.

Then, he stepped forward and pressed his own cock to Dean’s partially exposed ass. The intake of breath from Dean was loud and enticing. Encouraged, Cas began rocking his hips to drag his thick shaft up and down the crack. It was scintillating to watch a bead of clear liquid ooze from his tip and leave a moist trail on the dainty material.

One hand went to Dean’s hip as Cas repeated the motion, loving the way the material dampened more with each repetition. Still rigid against the wall, in the posture of a man being arrested, Dean moaned aloud and Cas watched as his palms, flat on the wall, curled into fists.

Tugging the panties down even lower, Cas let his erection drag over Dean’s actual skin for the first time and was thrilled to see a shiver snake its way up the man’s spine. With two fingers down inside pink silk, Cas slid his hand back and forth applying pressure to gradually expose more and more of Dean’s ass.

The man was eager, hungry for it, evidenced by a slow rocking of his hips. Cas was eager too. But, knowing how long he’d wanted this, he couldn’t help but drag it out. He wanted this to take all day.

As though the gods had heard that sentiment, they crashed his world down around him. A screeching siren sliced through the air, like the scream of a banshee, and startled both men out of their skin. Dean leapt from his carefully locked position facing the wall and turned to face Cas who was hastily shoving his cock back into his boxers as he looked around to determine where the peace-shattering noise was coming from.

As Cas’s mind and body returned to the real world, his senses became aware of things they’d previously been ignoring… like the thick, smokey scent of his breakfast burning on the stove.

“Fuck,” he cursed as he turned away from Dean and stormed off towards the kitchen. “It’s the smoke alarm,” he shouted over his shoulder as he reached for the broom.

“No shit,” Dean called from the other room.

Thick black smoke was belching from beneath the lidded skillet and Cas picked it up by the handle, using a nearby towel as his potholder, and dropped the entire thing into the sink as he swore aloud. The piercing, ear stabbing sound of the alarm was all Cas could hear as he pivoted towards the broom leaning in the corner. Grabbing it and stabbing at the button on the unit with the handle, Cas shouted, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” with each jab until the thing finally fell silent again. Relief was immediate. “Thank fuck,” he sighed in the silent aftermath.

Running cold water over the smouldering mess in the sink produced a loud sizzling and burst of steam that died down as the pan cooled. Turning away from the sink, Cas turned off the burner and used his towel to fan the thick smoke that had filled their tiny kitchen.

Realizing it was useless, he returned to the sink, over which was centered the only window in the room. Putting one bare knee up on the counter, Cas foisted himself up so he could reach the latch on it and yank it open. Fresh air billowed in, cool and crisp, cutting through the stench.

Taking a moment to gather himself before walking back to the bedroom, Cas wiped his brow and ran fingers through his hair. Then, wondering if this distraction would be enough to break the spell for Dean, Cas headed to back to the man’s room.

When he entered Dean was perched on the side of the bed, still still wearing only the panties. All traces of sexual desire seemed to have vanished in the wake of the incident and the face that greeted Cas now was friendly and relaxed. Wondering if this was to be the end of their liaison, Cas lingered in the doorway, leaning there and waiting for Dean’s intentions to become clearer.

“I can’t believe,” chuckled Dean, “that I missed a chance to have breakfast in bed.”

“I’ll make you breakfast after,” tried Cas, daring to hope.

“You better get on with it then,” grinned Dean, “I’m already gettin’ hungry.”

Elated that the game was still on, Cas crossed the small space between them and practically pounced on his friend. Rolling Dean as their bodies connected, Cas scrambled to get his knees under him so he could guide Dean’s body into position. Dean went to all fours easily, presenting his ass without inhibition. Returning the openness, Cas didn’t tease his man this time. He eagerly gripped the panties and yanked them down, baring Dean’s ass to the room again.

This time, with Dean’s body bent, his cheeks parted a bit as he preened, and Cas glimpsed the man’s tightly puckered hole in the dark space between. The sight of it went straight to his dick, which had fallen soft as he’d been startled by the smoke detector. Hardening quickly, Castiel let his mind flick back over the scene he’d imagined before, back when he’d had Dean pinned against the wall. Their current position was a bit of a departure from what he’d initially pictured, but it would do.

Bending to plant a kiss on Dean’s left butt cheek, Cas then scuttled off the bed to retrieve the lube he’d dropped before.

Once it was in hand, he reached around Dean’s hip and cupped the man’s package through his panties. It shouldn’t have surprised him so much to feel wetness on the fabric there. But it did for some reason. He must’ve gotten used to thinking of their hookups as being better for him than they were for Dean. But it would seem he’d been wrong about that. The whole time that Cas had been leaking onto those panties from behind, Dean had been soaking them from the front.

The man grew thick quickly as Cas stroked him through the soft material and when Dean’s crown pushed its way out into the room, Cas ran his finger over the tip to milk more moisture from it. Swirling his finger through the wetness elicited a carnal moan from Dean and with that, Cas pushed his hand down inside to scoop him out.

It was hot and sticky down inside the panties and Cas’s fingertips trailed through bush as he freed his man’s package. Guiding the material to rest behind Dean’s balls, Cas then retracted his hand long enough to squirt some lube into his palm before reaching back around to begin stroking Dean.

The man’s response was swift and immediate. He dropped his head and raised his ass, once again starting to roll his hips as he was pleasured. Cas settled over Dean’s back then, bracing his weight on one arm and two knees, each resting outside of Dean’s knees on the mattress.

Pressing his boxer-clad groin up against Dean’s ass, Cas rocked into his friend as he stroked him, feeling himself swell even larger.

Letting go of Dean’s dick, Cas left it bobbing beneath the man in favor of extracting his own and once again watching it come to rest against Dean’s fine ass. Ready now, Cas shoved the panties down a bit further, making room. Dean stilled completely, likely assuming this to be the moment of penetration. Poised unmoving, the man took a deep breath. Cas laid a hand on his flank and said, “I’m not going to fuck you, Dean.”

Turning to look over his shoulder at Cas, his friend appeared wounded. “What?”

Remembering the way Dean often let his bravado make way for his courage to follow, Cas summoned the will to do the same… to be firm… to give orders instead of ask questions… to inspire Dean’s confidence and will him to follow, rather than slink back and try to explain himself when he knew his logic would fall flat to Dean’s ears.

Willing himself to be stronger than he was, Cas drew his arm back and administered a heavy, open-handed smack to Dean’s ass cheek. “As I said before, Dean, you’ll shut that mouth and take what I give you.”

Thankfully, Dean whimpered in response and dropped his head down, once again surrendering to him. Cas let him wonder what would come next as he positioned himself carefully, keeping one hand firmly planted on Dean’s hip. The tingle of excitement that accompanied Dean’s submission began to spread over him and Cas found that he loved this side of himself… the side that knew what he wanted and took it without apology.

Coating his own shaft with slick, Cas then filled his palm again and shoved his hand roughly between Dean’s legs. Spreading lube on the man’s crack, his taint, and the juncture of his legs, Cas then left the panties stretched tightly around Dean’s muscular thighs and dropped the plastic bottle of lube to the sheets.

Gripping Dean’s hip with one hand, he guided himself in with the other, sliding his sensitive tip up and down the man’s ass crack teasingly a few times before plunging down between his legs and shoving his cock into the tight space he’d moistened.

Dean, seeming to grasp what was happening, leaned back into him and began rocking. Soon, Cas had both hands clamped to Dean’s hips and was throwing his head back in supplication. With his knees bracketed outside of Dean’s he was able to squeeze when needed, encouraging Dean to clamp down on his girth.

Fucking in deeply now, Cas could feel it each time he thrust forward and bumped Dean’s balls from behind with his dick. And, each time he pulled back, he could feel the tightly stretched material of Dean’s panties as his balls were dragged back over them.

As they sank into it, Cas felt  Dean come alive beneath him. The man was rolling his hips in time with Cas, probably enjoying the feel of Cas’s hard cock as it slid over his taint again and again with ever increasing pressure.

When he started getting close, the tightness around his cock strikingly reminiscent of full-on anal sex, Cas pulled back and extracted his length so he could take himself in hand and roll his bright red tip over Dean’s eager pucker.

Knowing he’d not be fucked seemed to be removing any reservations that Dean may have had. He wasn’t bashful at all, in fact, he was blatantly wanton as he rocked enticingly, arching his back and dipping his shoulders low to the bed. Clearly, this position agreed with Dean. He liked it on the bottom - liked being told what to do for once - liked offering himself up to be taken.

Before he buried his cock back in the warmth between Dean’s legs again, Cas ran his middle finger through the slick gathered in Dean’s crack and then circled his moistened finger around the man’s dusky bud.

“Fuck!” Dean cursed loudly, dropping his shoulders to become a tripod on the bed. “Fuck yeah,” the man shouted into the sheets.

Frantic and overwhelmed with erotic desire, Cas pushed the tip of his finger into Dean and watched the man push back to ride it. Switching from finger to thumb so he could change his angle, Cas pushed his heavy cock back into the small, warm space between Dean’s legs and began thrusting again, keeping his thumb buried deep as Dean rocked on him, meeting Cas’s thrusts.

“I love it,” Dean panted from under him. “I fuckin’ love it, man.”

“That’s right,” snapped Cas haughtily, caught up in the moment, “I know what you need.”

Balancing on just his knees for a moment, Cas lifted his other hand to dole out another sharp slap to the man’s bare ass before returning his palm to the mattress.

Administering a punishment like that was far more erotic and scintillating than he’d ever imagined, mostly because of his friends distinct reaction. It was undeniable - Dean liked being spanked.

As Cas joined Dean in speeding up their thrusts, he rotated his wrist to twist his thumb in Dean’s hole. And, since he was fucking between Dean’s legs and not into his tender virgin ass, Cas was free to be rough if he wanted. And he wanted. The more he watched Dean falling apart beneath him, the more he wanted to wreck the man. Pistoning his hips and challenging Dean to match his pace, Cas bent his thumb and continued to work Dean’s rim until he couldn’t manage it anymore. Ready to come, Cas then gripped Dean’s hips with both hands again and watched the man’s back flex beneath him as he chased his end.

“Cas,” Dean called out breathlessly, “I’m glad it’s you back there, man. I always wanted it to be you.”

More than life, Cas wanted to confess it all to Dean in this moment. He wanted to say aloud that he needed the man like air… that he’d been lost to all others before he’d even understood that he was falling… that Dean was the only one he’d ever really wanted… that his love was all encompassing… sickeningly real and inescapable… that he was Dean’s for the taking in every way.

But, to avoid the damning words and all that they’d do to ruin him, Cas bit his lip instead and let the love he carried inside wash over him as he peeked and came.

Thrust after stilted thrust, he emptied himself of all that he felt, the hot pulse of it erupting from his tip in bursts. Waves of euphoria passed over him as he climaxed, holding tightly to Dean and knowing that this, right now, was what made his life worth living. Dean. It was all Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean. His heart pounded to the rhythm of that name and it was all he could do to keep from chanting the name aloud.

Blissful moments passed as he came back to himself, still feeling Dean’s body moving beneath him. When he regained the ability to do more than survive the onslaught, he realized that Dean was jacking himself, also ready to come.

To assist his friend, Cas worked his finger back up between Dean’s cheeks and pushed in. Pumping in and out a few times with that single finger was all his friend seemed to need to finally push himself over the ragged edge he’d been chasing.

Dean’s body slid out from under Cas at the moment, sprawling onto the bed as Dean humped mindlessly into his own hand and spurted opaque jizz onto the tangled sheets beneath him.

Cas gingerly arranged himself next to Dean on the bed and let himself come the rest of the way down. As the world came slowly back into focus, he turned his head and found heavily lidded green eyes locked on his.

Being naked together and coming down from an orgasm was not new for them, but things were different this time. This time there was a new bond between them because Cas now knew something about Dean that he’d never known before. Dean, at least to some extent, was gay.

Questions formed by the dozen in Cas’s mind, confusing him and ruining his warm afterglow. By the look on Dean’s face, it was easy to see that his thoughts were also growing chaotic.

Among other things, Cas wanted to know if Dean was actually gay and just closeted - or if he was bisexual and only now discovering it. Also, he wondered if there were other aspects of Dean’s sexuality that were still question marks to the man. Was there more experimenting for Dean to do, or was this it? Would he come out publicly to announce whatever he was when he knew what he was? And, more importantly, what role did he see Cas playing in all this?

As though he knew exactly what Cas was thinking, or perhaps because he was harboring some similar questions, Dean whispered, “What now?”

“I don’t know,” Cas answered honestly. “That’s up to you, Dean.”

“I’m kinda glad you know my secret. It’s a relief. I didn’t expect that, at first.”

He knew that his friend was referring to being caught in panties, and possibly the fact that’d he’d wanted to be fucked. But Cas knew that his friend had likely been harboring even more that he’d never spoken of… things Cas couldn’t even guess at. To prompt him to share, he feigned confusion and said, “What’s your secret Dean?”

“Which one?” the man replied cryptically.

“Exactly,” he answered, looking up at the ceiling.

“Cas?” Dean asked in the quiet that followed.

Without looking, he replied, “Yes Dean?”

“I liked it. All of it. I just wanted you to know that. I always do.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I do too.”

“Before you came out, were you confused? Or did you always know exactly what you were?”

“It was confusing, yes,” he admitted, thinking back to his own journey of self discovery. “Though I think I was pretty clear about what I wanted and needed. I didn’t need to fuck a hundred girls to know that wasn’t what I wanted.”

“I like the girls,” said Dean softly. “That makes me a real whore right? I mean, I’m a dude who will really and truly fuck anything, right?”

“Anyone,” Cas corrected.

“Yeah, I guess. Thank fuck I’m not interested in animals. There’s that, I guess.”

“Do you find men and women equally attractive?”

Shrugging, Dean turned his face away.

“I’m asking because if that’s how you feel, then perhaps you’re bi or pansexual. I don’t think that makes you a whore. I think it makes you an incredible person who finds attraction based on the core of a person rather than their packaging.”

“Ha,” huffed Dean, “don’t declare my sainthood just yet. I like the packaging. To be honest, I’m often duped by it.”

“Lydia?”

“Yeah, her. Others. Most of them.”

“You really liked Pam.”

“Yeah, I did. I think you did too. You would’ve slept with them, wouldn’t you… her and Tommy.”

“Maybe.”

“How come it didn’t happen, then?”

Now it was Cas’s turn to shrug.

“Cas, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m scared shitless that I’m gonna fuck this up and lose you.”

“You won’t lose me, Dean. We’re stronger than that.”

“Damn, it’s good to hear ya say that. These kind of friend-with-benefits type deals usually have one mother of a downside. Somebody always winds up getting hurt. Man, there’s been a few times when I’ve thought… yep that was it, I just lost him. He’s gonna kick me out for sure.”

“Hardly,” said Cas, turning to smile warmly. Dean was turning to look at him again and when those bright and shining eyes came to rest on his face, Cas almost pledged his undying love and affection to the man on the spot.

But then, remembering how confusing it was to try and sort out his own sexuality and feelings, Cas decided to keep the declarations to ones of friendship and support. That, after all, was what Dean would really need right now.

“Look, Dean,” he said firmly, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, okay?”

“Yeah man, thanks,” said Dean, throwing his arms over his head in a full body stretch.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“When you figure out how you want to label yourself, do you think you’ll come out?”

“Nope,” he sighed. Turning to face Cas, Dean said, “Let’s face it, with a dad like mine, it’s never gonna happen.”

“What does your father have to do with your sexuality?”

“Nothing, thank god,” chuckled Dean, “but he’s got a shit ton to do with my life. Who knows how I’ll feel a few years from now, like, after Sammy’s grown and out of the house. But right now, if dad disowned me, he could keep me from my brother. Not only that, but he could really fuck up my life. He’s nothing like your dad, Cas. He’s not gonna just come around after a while. I mean, the idea of him finding out is, like, ball-retractingly scary. He’ll fucking hate what I am. Hell, he might even try to hurt me… come after me. Fuck no. Nobody can know, Cas. Nobody.”

“Okay Dean,” Cas reassured, “I get it. I’ve already promised to keep your secrets. You know you can trust me.”

“I do,” Dean whispered. Then, after a beat of silence, he went on to say, “Ya know, it would be different if I was like you. I mean, if I could only be happy with a dude, then maybe it would be worth it to come out. But if I can be happy with a girl, that would be easiest, right? Why bother going through all the bullshit of coming out just so I’m free to get myself with a little dick now and then, right?”

Suddenly growing frustrated with Dean’s viewpoint, Cas found himself snapping at his friend.

“Don’t use the word little in the same sentence with my dick.”

Beside him, seemingly unaware of the turn Cas’s mood had taken, Dean burst out laughing and said, “not what I meant man, you’ve got a nice one. Hell, it’s bigger than mine.”

“Only if you squint,” allowed Cas, his anger already passing.

“Did you say something about breakfast?” Dean prodded.

“I think I may have,” sighed Cas, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. As he shuffled out to the kitchen on shaky legs and checked to see what he could salvage from his half-used ingredients, Castiel’s mind was looping back to all that was just said.

Dean had acknowledged that their friendship was important to him, that he’d worried about losing Cas because of what they’d been doing. But he’d also compared their encounters to just ‘getting myself a little bit of dick now and then’. That gave a lot of insight into the man’s inner feelings. Dean didn’t reciprocate Cas’s love.

At first, Cas was just glad he hadn’t declared his feelings, only to be rebuffed. But then, a sadness washed over him as he processed that his love was truly unrequited.

All these years, Cas had taken comfort in the fact that he couldn’t have Dean for his own because the man was straight. Now, unfortunately, he had to come to grips with a far more disappointing truth. Dean wasn’t straight. But even still, Cas wasn’t of interest to him. Not on a romantic level anyway. It was a low blow.

As he pulled a clean pan from under the stove and turned on the burner, Cas realized what he had to do. Like it or not, he had to get out of here. When the school year ended, he needed to put himself on his own course, one that would steer him away from Dean Winchester for good. There was truly no way to justify staying anymore.

 


	7. To Scratch An Itch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Destiella for editing and feedback, I appreciate it very much and I'm sure those reading do as well.

                                                             

 

The next few days were some of the longest and hardest Cas had experienced since officially coming out. As was their way, he and Dean slipped into quiet avoidance regarding what had happened between them and all that was said in the aftermath. That wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was knowing that he couldn’t allow himself to indulge in another encounter if it were offered.

Cas couldn’t help but remember their tryst fondly and he hoped that Dean did too. It hadn’t just been fun, it had been mind blowing. Cas had said and done things that he still couldn’t believe. He’d bodily slammed Dean fucking Winchester to the wall and ground into him ruthlessly. He’d folded the man onto all fours on his own damn bed. He’d jerked panties down and spanked bare ass, and all the while, Dean had not only allowed his domineering behavior, he’d encouraged it. Surrendered to it.

Sometimes, if it was quiet when his mind would wander, Cas could actually hear Dean’s breathless voice in his head begging to be fucked. Even the memory of those words being uttered made his dick hard. As did the visceral memory of the way Dean’s legs had wrapped tightly around him as the man had asked to be taken. He’d specifically mentioned bending over as he’d made his request and every time Cas had put a hand to his ass in any way, the man’s back had arched with the exuberant effort of preening his backside invitingly.

Oh, fucking hell, he should’ve just fucked the man. He should’ve just ignored his conscience… taken what was offered… pushed hard into that lurid and inviting space between Dean’s cheeks and popped the man’s cherry. Dean had wanted Cas’s cock. Taking it into his hand now, Cas kicked his covers down and let the cool air swirl around it as he began stroking. He pictured himself fucking into Dean from behind, but he pictured it differently this time... the man’s panties falling loosely around his knees, his body braced against the wall with his ass shoved out behind him, little bud stretched tight and fiery-red around Cas’s thick dick as he moved it slowly in and out, slippery and shiny and as fat as it had ever been because he’d never been this excited before in his life.

As he jacked himself to this brilliant fantasy, Cas’s mind played a dirty trick on him. It produced for him, with startling clarity, the sound of Dean moaning. For a moment, his hand stilled and his ears searched the silence of the house to see if it was real.

Dick in hand, Cas laid there debating. More than anything, he wanted to tip toe downstairs. He could just pretend to use the bathroom. But in so doing, he could pass by his friends room and see if Dean had left his door open. To do so would have been an invitation. Cas stayed put though, knowing that if the door were open, he’d walk through it without question.

No good could come from that. Dean didn’t want him, not really. He just wanted a warm body to mess around with - one that had a cock but wouldn’t find it necessary to tell everyone on campus that he’d bent over and fucked the legendary Dean Winchester.

No. Cas would not be that person, not any more. He was leaving and it was time to start cutting the invisible cord that tethered him here.

Once again returning his attention to his own need, Cas used his hand to relieve the tension, rubbing one out to the collective memories of his and Dean’s steamy encounters. When he reached his end, Cas turned his head so that the sound would be muted by his pillow when he gasped out Dean’s name. Green eyes hovered behind his eyelids as he pulsed his release into the cool air of his darkened room.

The following morning, as he eyed the crusty remains of his spend on the sheet, Cas decided that the time had come. Pulling his phone off the charger on his nightstand, he slid his finger over the screen to wake it up. Carefully avoiding his own mess as he flopped down on the bed, Cas called his brother.

“Hey baby bro,” greeted Gabe, “Is this an emergency? Or did you just forget the time difference?”

“Sorry,” he confessed, “I forgot. What time is it there?”

“Five in the mornin’ bro. But now that I’m up, we may as well talk. How are things?”

“Could be better,” admitted Cas. “I’m thinking that it’s time to move on. I’ve given the matter some thought and wondered what you would think about me applying to USF?”

“Are you for real?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“It’s a great idea,” replied Gabe eagerly, “I think you’d love it here.”

“I think so too.”

“Apply. Do it now.”

“I will,” he said, meaning it. “I’ll do it after class today.”

“Wanna come spend the summer?”

“Yes. But not on the floor of your room. Maybe I should look into getting an apartment or something… get a summer job to cover the rent.”

“Good luck with that,” laughed Gabe. “Let me know if you find a glass slipper while you’re at it.”

“I really don’t want to go home this summer. Being there sucks my will to live.”

“I get it bro, I really do. Tell you what, I’ll ask around and see if anyone knows of anything okay?”

“Okay, thank you Gabe.”

“Sure thing, but you get that app filled out today, okay?”

“I will,” he said with a smile. “And tell Zar I said, ‘hello’, okay?”

“Hey Zar,” hollered Gabe, without even pulling his mouth away from his phone, “Cassie says hello.”

In the background he heard Balthazar shout, “Tell that wanker it’s five in the morning.”

The brothers said a final goodbye through laughter and Cas rose from the bed, tucking his phone into his pocket. It felt good to take some steps toward his uncertain future, but he couldn’t help being a little angry too. If Dean just felt something for him, he’d already be living his dream. It would save him the trouble of having to strike out on his own and go find it.

Taking a deep breath and willing himself not to be cranky, Cas balled up his sheets and dumped the soiled bedding into his laundry basket. Then, flinging his comforter over the bare mattress, he grabbed his bag and headed downstairs.

As he entered the kitchen, Cas saw Dean leaning on the counter eating a bowl of cereal. “Mornin’ sunshine,” he grinned. “Want some coffee?”

“Is that my Lucky Charms you’re eating?”

“Um, yeah. Want some Crunch Berries?”

“If I had wanted Crunchberries,” sighed Cas, “I would’ve bought them. I wanted Lucky Charms.”

“Well, this mornin’ I was cravin’ somethin’ magically delicious,” joked Dean unrepentantly.

Trying to control the irrational anger that was swelling inside him, Cas worked to keep his tone civil as he picked up the box and found it empty. “So was I,” he bit out. “The difference is, I’m the one who picked out that box, bought and paid for it. You are the chump that bought Cap’n Crunch. Again.”

“Your point?” grinned Dean, slurping milk from his bowl.

“Stop eating my fucking cereal,” he spat, turning from his roommate and heading for the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, Cas took a deep breath and tried to focus on the mundane tasks of showering, shaving, and brushing teeth. When he came out again, Dean was gone. With a fresh mouth, his interest in cereal of any kind had waned. He had about fifteen minutes before he had to leave for class and the house around him was silent as he moved through it. It would seem that Dean had left already, probably not interested in waiting around for him given his temperament this morning.

Flopping down on the couch, Cas pulled out his phone again and called home. “Hey, Mom,” he said when she picked up, “is this a bad time?”

“No, of course not,” she answered. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, Mom, everything’s fine. I just, well, I wanted to talk to both you and Dad. Is he there too?”

“I’m afraid not. He’s gone off to work. Should we call you back this evening when we’re together?”

“That would be great, Mom. I’m done with class today at four so any time after that is good.”

“Castiel?”

“Yes?”

“You’re not dropping out are you?”

“No - why would you ask that?”

“Well,” she replied, “I’m assuming that you have something important to discuss if you need us both on the line. Honestly, I don’t want to wait all day to find out what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he reassured her. “I’ve just changed my mind about the transfer. I’m going to apply to USF this afternoon and I wanted to talk to you guys before I did, since it’s not on the list of schools that we’d previously discussed.”

“Are you thinking of the fall semester?”

“Yes, next fall.”

“Oh Castiel, your father will be so pleased! That’s an excellent choice, son, what made you change your mind?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he lied. “We can talk about the details tonight when you call back.”

“Alright son, I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Bye, Mom.”

“Goodbye, Castiel. I love you,”

“You too, Mom,” he said. Then he dropped his head back, letting himself sink into the couch. It was such sweet relief to finally take action. He’d been considering this on some level for a long time, but only seriously for a few weeks. Once he’d realized that Dean truly didn’t want him, and that there was no hope, he’d sunk into a pit of despair. Making this decision and beginning to implement it was actually his first step towards leaving that pain behind. He was just so tired of curling up with it all the time. California promised relief and Cas was ready for it. Just then, a creak reached his ears.

The sound was familiar, coming from a weak spot in the floor on the other side of the room. Cas’s heart sank as he turned his head toward the sound and saw Dean standing there, frozen still like a statue. He hadn’t realized his friend was still in the house, but clearly he’d been here all along. How much had he heard?

“Y-you’re leavin’?” he asked, his face showing surprise.

“What?” he hedged, stalling for time.

“You’re changin’ schools? That’s what the big spring break in Cali was all about?”

“No, Dean,” Cas sighed, “I didn’t go there to look at schools. But once I was there, I really liked the area and thought maybe -

Dean didn’t let him finish. He looked absolutely heartbroken as he husked out, “You’re really gonna go?”

“Dean, I haven’t even applied yet,” he rationalized.

“You’ll get in,” said Dean, sounding far more confident than Cas felt.

“Dean I -

That was it. Before Cas could even finish his sentence, Dean pivoted angrily and strode across the room, covering the distance from one end to the other in three long strides before flinging the door open and rushing through it.

Stunned, Cas sat on the couch, his body still tensed in the same position on the couch as Baby fired up outside and peeled out of their driveway.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself as leaned back again. Cas didn’t make to his first class that day. He sat, for far too long, and thought of the look of utter betrayal that had been etched on Dean’s face when he’d asked if Cas was leaving.

He’d been so intent on figuring out how to deal with is own issues that he’d given zero thought to Dean’s. This house was leased under both their names. Castiel paid the lion’s share of their expenses too. If he left, Dean would likely have to get a part time job. He’d certainly have to find something more than the work-study program that presently served as his only income. He’d also have to find a new roommate - someone whose parents were willing to let them live away from the rules and regulations of campus, had money to buy out Cas’s share of the deposit, and was willing to take over the lease. He could see why Dean’s reaction had been so strong. It wouldn’t be easy to adjust to the changes that Cas’s absence would bring. And, underneath all of that, Cas knew there was a deeper issue.

Dean hadn’t looked wounded because of the economics of Castiel’s departure. He’d looked wounded because they’d been best friends since their toad-catching days and Cas hadn’t even talked to Dean about his plans. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. Dean probably thought of this as a betrayal on the deepest level.

Dean knew that the Novaks had been pushing Cas to change schools, but he’d never given his friend any inkling that he was considering it. He’d made a huge decision without even talking to his friend about it first. It wasn’t something he’d consciously done, but he’d done it. Then, to make matters worse, he’d blindsided the guy with the cold reality of seeing and hearing him as he made arrangements.  “I’m a piece of shit,” he said aloud.

He eventually rose from the sofa, pulled his backpack over his shoulder, and walked to campus. It was April now, Easter had come and gone, and there were signs of spring everywhere. The day was temperate, the sun was out, and the birds were singing. Castiel, however, felt cold and miserable despite the atmosphere. He lingered in a funk all day as he went through the motions on campus. He took his notes, ate his lunch, said hello to those that greeted him. But, through it all, he thought of nothing but what he’d say to Dean when he got home that night.

He owed his friend an apology, that was for sure, and in addition to offering him one, Cas planned to open a discussion of his plans and allow Dean to ask any questions that might be plaguing him. With so much to lose upon Cas’s departure, Dean might be feeling pretty vulnerable right now. Maybe reassurances would help him. Cas knew that he didn’t care about his deposit money, not enough to let it be an issue anyway, and though he knew it wasn’t wise, he was willing to leave his name on the lease if would help Dean out.

With his mind swirling around the chaos of his personal life, Cas hardly paid attention in his classes. He’d regret it later, he knew, but was still powerless to absorb anything as his professors droned on.

The walk home found him hyper-focused on the argument he knew he was about to have and he was literally rehearsing several key components of the speech which had been forming in his mind as the day passed. When he walked up to the house, Dean’s car was gone. Upon entering, Cas was relieved that he’d have a few minutes more to prepare before coming face to face with his roommate. Pacing the living room, Cas went over his main points again, trying to find the gentlest language with which to deliver them. When his parents called, Cas asked them to call back the following night. He didn’t want to take any chances on Dean walking in while they were discussing his move.

As time passed, he grew more anxious not less. When he sun went down, Cas began to realize that Dean wasn’t coming home. He was likely out drinking with friends.

Cas’s heart sank as he became cognizant of the fact that he wouldn’t be having this discussion at all tonight. Even if Dean came home relatively early and only a little buzzed, which seemed doubtful, he’d be in no condition to have a serious talk. Not wanting to waste the effort that he’d invested in figuring out the perfect words for this discussion, Cas went up to his room to write them down. After several revisions to his initial draft, it was easy to see that he was obsessing and in need of a distraction. However, he knew he didn’t deserve one. So, rather than call Charlie or one of his other friends with the hope of getting out of the house, Cas decided to take his medicine. He stripped down and got into bed, allowing his feelings of guilt and sadness to lie down with him, and then tried to sleep despite the weight of his sorrow and his spinning thoughts. Honestly, the last thing he’d ever meant to do was hurt Dean. But, simply by excluding his friend, Cas had caused him pain. The image of Dean’s wounded face rose to mind again and Cas felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He was sick with guilt and rolled from side to side as he cycled through various levels of self-loathing.

Stunned that he’d even managed to fall asleep, Cas shot straight up in bed when he heard the sound of the Impala rumbling into the driveway. Clearing his bleary eyes, Cas put his feet to the floor with the intention of going downstairs. But, as he neared the top of the steps, Cas froze. The sound of feminine giggles sent an icy chill up his spine.

Cas thought he knew what would happen next because Dean’s behavior was always so predictable. So, not wanting his footsteps to be heard below as he returned to his bed, Cas stayed put and waited for Dean to walk his ‘lady of the evening’ to his room and shut the door. Unfortunately, Dean wasn’t following the patented Winchester playbook tonight. Instead of heading for his room, Dean paused right at the foot of the stairwell, next to the bookcases full of their games and movies, and pressed this girl to the wall. Cas could hear the soft thump of it and her giggle as it happened which morphed into a moan as Dean seemingly began to kiss her. Cas heard it all from his post at the top of the stairs, too scared to even move at this point. He could even hear the soft rustle of material as the two put their hands all over each other, the little noises from their kisses, and the inevitable clunk when Dean dropped his keys to the floor as he quit caring about anything else.

The two must have been right at the base of the steps to be heard this clearly, and suddenly a feeling of revulsion swept over Cas as he realized that this was likely intentional. As Dean began undressing this woman, he was hoping that Cas would hear it or maybe even see it. He’d hurt Dean, and now Dean was hurting him.

This cruel revenge was effective, more so than Dean probably even knew. Cas, still unwilling to move and have the sound of it betray him, stood still as a statue as Dean’s moan floated up the steps to him. It washed over him like a sickening smell, turning his stomach and making him queasy. Then came the inevitable grating sound of zippers coming down and the soft gasp of a woman who’d just absorbed the first manifestations of real pleasure. _Dear god in heaven,_ thought Cas _, he’s going to fuck her right here at the foot of the steps. I’m going to hear it all. Even if I were in my bed, I’d be hearing it all._

“Oh Tessa,” whispered Dean. “Why’d we wait so long?”

That was the last straw for Cas. Knowing that Dean was about to fuck one of _his_ friends sent a surge of adrenaline through his body and, like a thunderstorm, waves of heavy anger rolled in behind it.

“Dean,” breathed Tessa. “I always wanted you.”

Shaking now as he tried to keep himself under control, Cas took several deep breaths trying to calm himself but it didn’t help. He was enraged, hatefully angry in this moment and he honestly thought that if he started hitting Dean right now, he might not be able to stop.

No longer caring for anything beyond his fury, Cas broke his stance. Full of righteous indignation and a fury he could barely contain, he crossed the last few steps to the landing and shouted down the stairs, “There’s a door on your bedroom for a reason, Winchester. Get your skanky ass behind it when you’re fucking somebody!”

A gulf of silence filled the house after that. He waited, ready for Dean to yell something back at him, ready to engage, ready to come to blows. But, in the aftermath of his outburst, the loudest thing was his own pulse. It was pounding in his ears as he breathed heavily and waited to see what would happen next.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Castiel heard a sound. A zipper being pulled up. That sound was repeated a moment later. He heard Tessa whisper something and then the door opened, closing again softly with a gentle click.

In the aftermath of what seemed to be Tessa’s departure, Dean’s angry voice swept up the stairs and threw Cas’s own words back in his face. “Well Cas,” his roommate spat angrily, “I guess if you’re not gettin’ laid then nobody’s gettin’ laid.”

Before he could even think of a response, the resounding slam of Dean’s bedroom door punctuated his words.

As Cas returned to his bed, all the anger seeped out of him. In its wake, he found himself weary and sad enough to actually cry. The good news about crying? Sleep quickly followed.

After that night, things were different between them. Dean no longer gave Cas a ride to school, even on the days that he used to. The texts that Dean used to send him after class to make plans also came to end. Other friends messaged him to see if he’d be stopping by The Jug for drinks, coming to Benny’s to tap a keg, or hitting IHOP with them after, but no invitations of that nature came from his best friend. The freeze out was total and complete.

Breakfast was always cold cereal now. The box always emptied predictably too, because Dean no longer snuck it. Frozen pizzas and burritos were his dinner every night. The days of his friend serving him warm and delicious meals were clearly over. The place had never been cleaner, but Cas couldn’t enjoy it because of the underlying coldness that seeped into every corner of their shared living space.

To make matters worse, Dean brought home a new girl almost every night. He always walked them straight to his room and closed the door, but often Cas found himself wondering if the man was actually _trying_ to get his voice to carry as he fucked and came.

Not interested in trying to cover his hurt, Cas didn’t reciprocate.  But he’d be a liar if he tried to pretend that it hadn’t crossed his mind. Dean wasn’t the only one capable of hooking up. Cas could bring home a train of guys and run them through… wink seductively as he tugged them upstairs… scream like a porn star when he came… make sure Dean heard his ecstasy in a feeble attempt to somehow even the score.

But, honestly, what good would that do? He was brokenhearted, sickeningly sad and lost. Even the satisfaction of striking a blow of retaliation against Dean couldn’t offer even a hint of relief. He was in agony and there was nothing to be done to ease his pain. Nothing could replace what he’d lost. Dean had taken something from Cas that he’d never thought he’d actually lose - his friendship.

As far as Castiel was concerned, the approaching end of term was the finish line and this was now a race. A long distance, cross country, fake it ‘til you make it kind of race - and the prize was going to be the sweet relief of leaving for California.

Gabe, it turned out, had come through after all. Some friend-of-a-friend had a brother in the city that wanted to go to Europe for the summer and was looking to sublet his share of an apartment. Aside from having to accept the place sight unseen and the roommate that came with it, the situation was perfect. Cas could live there for the summer, then transfer to the dorms when school started up. He’d told his brother he’d accept the offer as soon as he’d secured a job that would pay the rent.

Still trying to be helpful, Gabriel had emailed him a list of restaurants in proximity where tips would likely be good enough to cover his expenses over the summer and he’d been applying online to one each day as he waited to hear back from USF. Time was passing, and as it did, Cas became increasingly glad for the approach of summer. He couldn’t stay here much longer.

The silence that filled their little house was tense. Both he and Dean were wound up tight, and being home was like navigating a minefield. His new hope was only that they would make it to the culmination of the semester before one of them snapped. Recently Cas had begun purposefully avoiding his home, spending as much time as he could with friends or studying at the library.

Today, he was with Charlie. They’d just come from QA. In the past, Cas would’ve headed home afterwards to join whatever party was forming in his living room. He then would’ve spent the night feeling guilty for the work he was neglecting as he did. But that wasn’t his life anymore. Instead, he’d accompanied Charlie out for drinks after their meeting. She and Gilda were still going strong, but due to a family emergency, Charlie’s girlfriend was not on campus at the moment.

“How is she?” he asked as they settled into a booth with their drinks.

“She’s hangin’ in there,” smiled Charlie. “Her grandma is a tough old bird. But even if she doesn’t make it, I think the family is ready to let her go. She’s old and sick, but she’s had a good life. It’s kind of her time, ya know? I just hope she doesn’t suffer.”

“You’ll pass along my best wishes to her?”

“Of course. How are things for you?”

“You’ll need stronger drinks if you’re going to let me talk about it.”

“Well, good thing you’re buying then,” she grinned.

“It’s just eight more days until the end of term,” he sighed woefully, “and I still have no idea where I’m going when school is out.”

“Did you ever hear back from USF?”

“Not yet. I login every day and check my status.”

“Did you check yet today?”

“No,” he answered, sipping his drink, “but I will when I get home. I fill out an employment application every night too. Once I get a job, I can agree to the apartment. But even then, it’s all kind of pointless if I’m not accepted. If that happens, I have to start all over… I’ve put all my eggs in this one basket.”

“Sounds like it’s what you really want.”

“Maybe.”

“Just maybe?”

“I want to go to California,” he said honestly, “but I’m less certain about being pre-med. It’s so much work, and it’s getting harder by the day. I don’t even want to think about what med school will actually be like. Sometimes I wish I was just a regular student. I’m not sure I want to be a doctor badly enough to keep going.”

“Well, people change their majors all time,” she consoled. “Once you get out there, you can do whatever you want. The hard part is making the move, right?”

“I suppose.”

“Check,” she told him, pushing her laptop across the table to him. “Check now. If today’s the day you get in, I want to see it happen.”

Pushing his drink aside and wiping his hands on his jeans, Cas set his fingers on the keys and brought up the USF website. He logged in and waited while the page loaded.

“I can’t believe it,” he whispered, stunned to see something other than ‘currently processing’ listed as his status. “I’m in,” he said with a smile.

“Oh Cas, that’s great!” she squealed. Jumping to her feet, she shouted to the entire bar, “Hey everybody, my friend Cas here just got accepted to USF pre-med!”

Though there were some familiar faces around them, Cas didn’t have any close friends in the bar. Even still, those around them let out a resounding cheer.

“Shots!” someone called out. One call beckoned another and soon everyone was chanting it. Grinning, Cas leapt to his feet and pulled out the ‘emergencies only’ credit card that his parents had given him. Crossing to the bar with his card waving overhead, Cas shouted “Shots on me!” to the room.

Whistles and shouts of appreciation filled the air and the aura of celebration was palpable as the bartender swiped Cas’s card and began filling a tray with empty shot glasses. Everyone cheered and pushed forward to join him at the bar as the bartender made a show of filling the tray full of glasses from the bottle Cas had selected.

“To Cas!” Charlie called out as she took one and passed the tray on.

“To me!” he hollered, raising his to the room before he downed it.  

Dinner, homework, job applications, and yes, even his miserable living situation were all forgotten as Cas celebrated with Charlie and dozens of strangers. Several rounds later, flying high and buzzing from head to toe, he found himself settled into his booth comfortably as he waited for Charlie to return with more drinks. Smiling to himself, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to his father that he’d probably regret later.

“Dad, I just put a few hundred bucks on my emergency card. I bought a round for the entire bar when I got accepted to USF.”

Initially, he intended to wait for his father’s response and then laugh about it while he still could. But then, something happened. He turned to see Charlie approaching with their drinks and be intercepted by none other than Dean Winchester.

“I was at The Jug,” he told her, “Someone told me I had to come over here but wouldn’t say why. All I know is that there’s good news and free drinks. What’s going on?”

Like a tire with a leak, Cas felt his comfortable happiness begin to seep out of him. As he looked up from his place at the table and met Dean’s eyes for the first time in ages, he tried to find words. But, his mind was sluggish with alcohol and he came up empty. All he could do was stare imploringly at Dean.

Stepping in to save him, Charlie put her hand to Dean’s shoulder and drew his eyes away. When he was looking at her instead of Cas, she gently told Dean, “Cas just got his acceptance from USF.”

Without a word, Dean pivoted on his heel and marched out of the bar. Leaning out of his booth to watch his friend go, Cas could’ve wept. All he could think was, I’ve done it again. I’ve just blindsided him again.

Cas couldn’t bring himself to go home that night. Here, with Charlie, he had a vibrant distraction and steadfast friend. But back home what awaited him was, at best, a night of tense silence.

“Can I crash at your place?” he asked his friend.

“Of course you can, Cas, whatever you need,” she reassured him.

The rest of the night was a blur. When he woke in the morning, he had only vague memories of being snuck into a girls’ dorm, of curling up on a bottom bunk amidst a sea of stuffed animals, and barfing into a bucket on the floor next to that bunk.

“Breakfast?” offered Charlie when he came around.

“No,” he grimaced. “Aspirin please.”

Laughing lightly, she fished out a bottle and crossed the room to hand it to him. Bending to retrieve water from a tiny refrigerator, she reminded him that he owed her one for emptying his puke bucket and then congratulated him again on his acceptance. “It’s going to happen, Cas,” she said thoughtfully as she sat down next to him on the bunk.

“What is?”

“Whatever you want.”

Those were the words rolling around in his mind as he crossed the campus with a raging hangover. When he entered the house, it was quiet. Dean’s car was in the driveway so it seemed that he was still in bed. Taking advantage of the solitude, Cas went to the medicine cabinet and dosed himself again before trudging upstairs. Falling into his bed, he wriggled down into the covers and said goodbye to the waking world for a time.

He heard the door at some point and it roused him from his slumber. The bright sunshine indicated early afternoon, but Cas didn’t look at his clock. He simply let his heavy head fall back to the pillow as Dean’s Impala roared to life in the driveway.

When he woke again, the afternoon was slipping to a close. Cas felt much better at that point, but his body needed fluids. Heading downstairs, Cas chugged cool water and then carried a soda to the bathroom with him. A shower felt wonderful and he sipped on his sugary, caffeinated beverage as he shaved and headed upstairs to really get dressed. Only now did he actually check his phone.

To his surprise, the reply from his father simply said, “Your mother and I are very proud of you. We’ll overlook the charges for drinks. In fact, we’d like to get you a congratulatory gift, so buy yourself something with the card. We love you, son.”

Wow. Castiel texted back his thanks and then sent a message to Gabe with his news as well. Then, he settled at his desk to look over the details of his acceptance and take the next steps. It was after he’d finished and was clearing his mess of papers from the desk that Cas stumbled across a page he’d forgotten about. On it was written everything he’d meant to say to Dean the night after Dean had first found out he was leaving. His thoughts were expressed as bullet points on the page, clinically.

 

  * I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about leaving before I took steps in that direction. I was being selfish and it wasn’t fair to you.
  * I’ve loved living with you these past two years and I’ll never forget the good times we’ve had. But, I can’t live with you anymore. It isn’t good for me.
  * You are the best friend I’ve ever had and I don’t want to lose you.
  * I hope that even when we’re not living together we can still be friends.
  * I will miss you.
  * When you come to visit Sam at Stanford, I hope you’ll visit me too.



 

It had been hard not to include a bullet point that said, _I love you more than anything and I wish there could be more between us._

But back then, he’d honestly thought it better not to mention his desires. Since Dean didn’t feel the same, there was no point in admitting anything. It would only make things more strained between them.

Staring at his list now, Cas realized that everything he’d written here still applied. It was all just as relevant now as it had been weeks ago. Crumpling the list, he he threw it away with the rest of his trash. There was no point anymore. Nothing was salvageable between them. Not now, anyway.

Maybe years from now one of them would reach out on facebook or whatever social media was relevant at the time. Perhaps they’d reminisce a little and rekindle a friendship of sorts… introduce their spouses to one another and swap stories about their jobs and their kids and their houses in the suburbs. But for now? Their friendship and whatever else they’d shared had burned out like a candle, darkness and the scent of smoke replacing the warmth that had once glowed between them.

Still a bit wrung out, Cas called it an early night. With his room cleaned and his paperwork done, he crawled into bed and considered what he’d do with his Sunday. So close to the end of term, it was probably a good idea to get some boxes and start packing. Now that California was a sure thing, there was no point in waiting for the last minute.

Cas let his mind wander as he thought of the coming days and what he’d be doing with them. Soon he was waking momentarily to the sound of Dean’s car pulling up. As always, Castiel tensed for a moment, wondering if Dean would bring a girl in with him.

When the front door had opened and closed, Cas heard only one set of footfalls. Relieved, he snuggled back down into his his covers. But then, he tensed again as he heard Dean coming up the stairs. It was so unexpected that he sat straight up in bed and stared at his doorway wondering what was about to happen.

Dean was drunk, that much was obvious. His steps were uneven and faltering. When he finally appeared, he supported his weight on the door frame before speaking.

“Congratulations,” he husked, his eyes heavily lidded but trying to focus on Cas in the dark.

Cas searched for words. He still wanted to read his list to Dean. In the moments it took him to figure out what to say, Dean moved into the room and crossed it, coming to stand at the edge of Cas’s bed. Even in the filtered moonlight of a single window, Dean’s eyes were incredible.

Cas swallowed and took a deep breath. “Dean, I-

“Shuddup,” slurred Dean, off kilter and lilting to the side.

Nodding his agreement, Cas waited to hear what his friend would say. It must be important if Dean had bothered breaking their mutual silence and coming upstairs when he was so clearly shit-faced.

When Dean finally spoke, all he said was, “Fuck me.”

“Wh- What?”

“Y’heard me,” growled Dean, leaning in. Gracelessly he tumbled onto the bed, his elbows and knees seeking purchase as Cas struggled to accommodate him. With his mind racing, Cas had no idea what to say or do and he felt very defensive as he tried to figure out what was happening.

Dean’s breath was thick with whiskey and cigarette smoke and it was hot on Cas’s neck as he repeated himself ineloquently. “Fuck me, Cas.”

“Dean, I think-

“No Cas,” Dean said firmly, his palm coming to rest over Cas’s mouth to physically shut him up. “I’m not here to talk. I wanna fuck. I know you’re holdin’ out for some reason, but I don’t fuckin’ care anymore. You gotta do this for me, man. Just do this before… before you leave me.”

Dean sounded so lost and desperate as he said the words 'leave me' that Cas immediately wound his arms around the man protectively. With Dean’s body heavily resting on him, Cas found that one question kept coming back to his mind over and over. So, he asked it.

“Why Dean? Why is this so important to you?”

“C’mon, man, you really gonna pretend you don’t know?”

“I’m not pretending,” answered Cas honestly.

“It’s important ‘cause, well, jus’ ‘cause, okay?”

Unmoving, Cas waited. He did nothing to encourage or dismiss his lifelong friend. Despite wanting nothing more than to enjoy the man’s physical closeness while it was being offered, he waited.

Finally, Dean relented. He took a deep breath and dropped his head to Cas’s shoulder. “Aw, c’mon man,” he whispered, “don’t make me say it, okay?”

Cas remained silent and still, waiting. He wanted to know what Dean was really thinking. What didn’t he want to say? Goodbye? Sorry? What?

“I know how you feel ‘bout me,” admitted Dean softly, his breath tickling at Cas’s ear. “It’s all over you, man. You try’n hide it, jus’ like I do. But we’ve known each other since we were six. Who’s really hiding anything, right?”

Struggling to breathe, Cas could hardly believe what he was hearing. It seemed like Dean was admitting to not only knowing of Castiel’s feelings, but sharing them. He tried to think of any other possible meaning behind what was being said but nothing came to mind. “Dean,” he whispered tentatively, “are you saying that-

Interrupting, Dean suddenly sounded angry as he picked his head up to look down at Cas and say, “Everything was jus’ fine. Even after we started bangin’ everything was jus’ fine. Fan-freakin’tastic. But now I’ve told ya stuff, and all of a sudden you’re  puttin’ a thousand miles between us. I wish I’d never opened my goddam mouth.”

As his mind raced to catch up, Cas tried to see things from Dean’s side… the timing of it all. Looping back to the day, Cas remembered Dean’s chagrin at being caught in the panties and his subsequent confession. He’d said he was tired of pretending that he didn’t want to be fucked. And as he’d rocked on all fours with Cas’s finger in his ass, he’d said, “I’m glad it was you, Cas. I always wanted it to be you.”

The signs of feelings from Dean had been there, he’d just not seen them. He’d been far more focused on the words Dean had spoken afterwards, the ones that weren’t even directed at him… ones that likened sex with men to scratching an itch. Hearing Dean talk about ‘getting a little’ from time to time had rubbed him the wrong way and he’d not been able to get past it. But with hindsight, he found that he understood. Dean had simply meant that if he was able to make it work with a girl, that would be easier than coming out and risking the changes that inevitably would follow.

And why wouldn’t Dean feel like that? Cas certainly had. If there had been any way to avoid coming out publicly, he’d have done it. The only reason he’d finally exposed himself was because he’d known there was no other way. He simply couldn’t imagine finding a path to happiness from the closet.

“Shit, Dean,” sighed Cas, tightening his arms around Dean from beneath. “I’ve been so busy trying to hide how I was feeling that I didn’t even notice what _you_ were feeling.” Tipping his head to the side and pecking Dean’s cheek affectionately, he said, “I’m so sorry Dean. I am. For all of it.”

“You really didn’t know?”

“No.”

“Does knowing change anything for you?”

“You mean in regards to California?”

“Yeah,” answered Dean, lifting his head and looking Cas in the face.

“I’m not sure but, yes, I think it does.”

When Dean’s head fell to Cas’s chest, he knew his friend was feeling relief. For some reason, though, that same relief wasn’t finding Castiel. The reason didn’t take long to occur to him either. Closing his eyes, he asked a clarifying question. “Dean, what would it be like if I stayed?”

“Dunno,” Dean answered, nuzzling into Cas’s neck. “I mean, I guess it’d be like it’s been. Probably better.”

“And by that you mean that I’d be a secret and you’d still be fucking every girl that crosses your path?”

“I –

Cas could tell by the tension filling Dean’s body that he hadn’t even considered that aspect of things until this very moment. Cas wished that Dean wasn’t drunk right now. But then again, had he not been, this entire conversation might never have happened.

“That bothers you,” said Dean, bringing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “The girls. Yeah, of course it bugs you. If it were the other way around I would… shit, Cas, I hadn’t thought this through. I mean, I get it, but I don’t know how it would look to everyone else if I just, all of a sudden went and took my pecker off the market with no explanation.”

Cas’s heart was heavy in his chest and it ached as though it were bruised. How many times was he going to get his hopes up only to have them crushed?

“I can’t stay for that, Dean. I won’t. I deserve to be with someone who wants me badly enough to let other people see it. If that’s how things are going to be, then no. I can’t stay. I’m sorry.”

“So that’s it?” Dean challenged, lifting his weight from Cas for the first time since falling into the bed. “If you can’t have exactly what you want then you just pack up your shit and go?”

“It’s not like that, Dean. I’m not doing this to manipulate you or to force your hand. I’m doing this for my own good. I can’t keep pretending like I’m fine when I’m not. I’ll always be your friend, Dean, but I just can’t live here anymore.”

In the deep silence that followed, Dean extracted himself from Cas’s arms and left. His progress down the stairs was slow and Cas ached to get up and assist his friend to bed. But it was best not to, he knew that. Doing so would risk further temptation, and at this moment he was far too weak.

As he laid there and contemplated his feelings for Dean and Dean’s feelings for him, Cas wondered which was harder… wanting Dean and thinking he couldn’t have him, or knowing he could have him, but not in a healthy way. The latter, it seemed, was more challenging because it required willpower that Cas wasn’t sure he had. Even as he’d professed being unwilling to live as Dean’s dirty little secret, he’d been considering it. Hell, it was fair to say he was still considering it now.

Knowing what was right was one thing… living it was another.

In the morning, when Cas went downstairs, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He had no idea how much Dean would even remember from their exchange last night, or how he’d feel about their words when he was sober. In the harsh light of day, things often looked different than they had while lingering in the sweet and comforting embrace of alcohol.

Cas passed the kitchen on his way to the bathroom and Dean was there, standing at the stove where he seemed to be frying sausage. When Cas passed by, he was greeted by his friend and even that was a world of improvement over recent days. Glad that their cold stand off seemed to have ended, Cas took a quick shower. When he exited, Dean called out that there were pancakes. Heading to the kitchen, Cas grabbed a plate and helped himself to the first hot breakfast he’d had in ages. Adding sausage links to his hotcakes, Cas doused the plate in syrup and headed to sit down at the table. Dean was already there, his plate nearly empty. The man looked up at him with a soft smile and said, “M’glad we’re talkin’ again at least.”

“Me too,” nodded Cas, spearing a sausage with his fork. “In all the years we’ve been friends, I don’t think we’ve ever really fought before. It was awful.”

“M’not gonna lie,” said Dean, fork still in hand as he rested it on the table, “I was pretty pissed.”

“You had every right to be. I was wrong not to talk to you about leaving.”

“You shoulda asked me for more, if more was what you really wanted.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think I coulda given you what you wanted, but I deserved to be consulted before you just decided for both of us.”

“Agreed.”

“It’s monogamy, right? That’s your condition?”

“My condition?”

“Yeah, man,” grumbled Dean, clearly not enjoying the conversation. “Your condition to stay. We’ve gotta be exclusive, right? Like, boyfriends? Publicly?”

“You make it sound like an ultimatum Dean,” sighed Cas.

“Well, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s just what I need. I feel like shit every time you bang someone else. It’s not good for me. I’d rather not have you at all, then have you and have to share you with others.”

“They mean shit to me,” Dean said firmly, staring bluntly at Cas as he said it. “You’re my… well, you’re my best fucking friend okay? What matters compared to that?”

“If they mean nothing, then they should be easy to give up.”

“It’s not them that I’d be giving up. I’d be blowing my cover man, how can you not see that?”

“You don’t need it. Maybe when we lived in Lawrence I would have agreed. But we’re hundreds of miles from home. Your father only knows what you tell him.”

“This ain't just about him. It’s about me. It’s about how people see me… who I am. Do I really need to explain this to you? You’ve come out - you know how that feels. So how can you wish it on me?”

“I don’t,” he replied, setting down his fork. “For what it’s worth, this whole thing was easier when I thought you were straight. But we are what we are and we need what we need. I’ve told you what I need. Now, Dean, what do you need?”

Dean didn’t answer right away, his eyes glazing over as he seemed to consider the question. “Time,” he finally said. “I need time to figure all this shit out without feeling like there’s a gun to my head.”

“You’ve had that,” sighed Castiel, “you had it for years. My leaving isn’t a gun to your head. It’s just me living my life and trying to be happy. We want that for each other, don’t we?”

Picking up his fork again, Cas cut off an ambitious portion of sticky pancake and lifted it to his lips. He chewed his bite slowly as he watched Dean soften, his shoulders curling forward. With his eyes glued to his plate as he resumed eating, Dean mumbled, “Yeah Cas, we do.”

The air in the house changed again after that discussion. It wasn’t cold and angry anymore, nor was it tense and filled with all that wasn’t being said aloud. The new atmosphere around them was comfortable, if perhaps a bit sad.

Dean continued cooking for Cas, even making some of his favorite meals as the number of days in the semester dwindled. Dean made no further sexual advances and Cas made no mention of their feelings or relationship.

Dean took Cas to the local Uhaul so he could buy a huge stack of boxes and pile them into Baby’s trunk. Then, he even helped for a little bit as Cas packed up his belongings. “I’ll leave my furniture if you think someone might want it.”

“Andy asked about the room,” replied Dean, folding Castiel’s winter clothes into a box. “I told him how much and he didn’t bat an eye.”

“You’d never be out of weed,” chuckled Cas.

“His farts smell like roadkill.”

“So do mine.”

“Yours aren’t so bad.”

“Do you need me to leave my name on the lease?”

“I don’t think so. Andy says he’ll sign a new one.”

“I’ll call the landlord then,” offered Cas. “I’ll let him know that I’m leaving and we need to draw up a new lease with a different renter.”

“Thanks Cas.”

“Will you make lasagna?” he asked. “You know, for my last night?”

“Of course. Everybody’s comin’ over on Saturday for a party though, better do the lasagna thing on Friday instead.”

“Party?”

“Yeah, Cas, a party. You remember, right? We used to have them all the fuckin’ time. Besides, Charlie already texted and said if I didn’t throw you one, she would.”

“That’ll be nice,” agreed Cas. “Especially if I’m done packing ahead of time. It would suck to have to load up when we’re hungover.”

“You renting a truck?”

“Just a van. Most of this is going to my parents place. Only a few boxes are actually coming with me to Cali.”

“I’m gonna visit you know,” huffed Dean, leaning in to seal up the box he’d filled. “I’ll pick up Sammy and we’ll come stay at your place.”

“Good,” smiled Cas, hoping for the best.

Kicking his finished box to the side, Dean crossed the room and threw his arms around Cas. Hugging back, Cas breathed in the scent of Dean and tried to keep his poker face on for when they parted.

“Fuck, I’m gonna miss you,” Dean gritted out against Cas’s shoulder. “This place won’t be the same without you.”

Dean held onto Cas for a long time, and when they pulled apart slowly, he leaned in and touched their lips together. There was no tongue, just a chaste kiss that lingered, soft and sweet. Cas recognised it as a goodbye.

After that, Dean left him alone upstairs to finish the last few boxes. By the time he was done, all that was left was his furniture and a few boxes. One still stood open atop his dresser withe everything he'd be needing over the next few days piled inside.

On his desk were his laptop and cell phone. It seemed bare and empty up here now, his stack of boxes acting as the physical proof that his life in this place was at its end. Downstairs, the sound of friends arriving stole Cas’s attention and he chose to head down. Benny and Ron were already taking over the sofa by the time he entered. Ron’s girl was on her cell phone, perched at their wobbly dining room table and ordering a pizza.

“Can we get in on that?” Cas asked, feeling a rumble in his stomach.

“Gotcha covered,” called Dean from the kitchen. A moment later, the man was emerging from the kitchen with a half dozen cans of beer cradled in his arms. “I ordered garbage for ya,” winked Dean, handing Cas a beer in passing. Cracking it open, he watched his friend distribute cans to Benny and Ron, dropping the rest on the coffee table and picking up a game controller.

The rest of the week went quickly, the last of their academic testing posing no challenge for Cas. He’d been more prepared for the current round of finals than any before it, mostly because he’d had plenty of time on his hands while he and Dean were on the outs. Now that he was packed up as well, there wasn’t much left to do but enjoy the last of the time with his friends.

Cas settled in on the armrest of the couch, offering scathing commentary on the game being played while sipping beer and passing a joint around. When the pizza arrived he ate his fill and continued drinking, probably laughing a bit too loud and maybe smiling a bit too long at Dean when their eyes connected. He didn’t care anymore… perhaps others would see that he was in love with his friend, but he’d never hidden it for their sakes and couldn’t give a fuck. Dean knew, and that was the only soul he’d been hiding himself from. Now, knowing that Dean felt for him too, Cas had no need for secrets anymore.

The next few nights were similar, mostly happy memories in the making. Dean did cook lasagna on Friday and to Cas’s surprise, they were left to themselves while they ate it.

“This is the best you’ve ever made,” said Cas when he dug in.

“I put in hamburger and sausage. Extra cheese too. Three kinds.”

Cas hummed his approval and watched Dean smile warmly as his friend battled the oozing cheese to cut himself another bite. “What are we doing after this?” Cas asked. “Do you want to go down to The Jug?” It seemed a good suggestion. With the farewell party happening tomorrow, tonight was actually the last night they’d be able to do it.

“Sure,” nodded Dean, “or we could mess around.”

Looking up, Cas saw his friend’s smile widen and his eyes seemed electric.

“Ya know,” added Dean with a shrug, “jus’ for old times sake.”

It was impossible not to consider the invitation. Cas knew his friend well enough to know that this would be the last one he received.

“I think I’d better pass,” smiled Cas. “I mean, right now the memories are all good ones. But, man, all this meat and cheese… what if I fart or something? It’ll be all you ever remember of me.”

Busting out laughing, Dean seemed to get it. “You’re right,” he conceded. “It’s been good, Cas. Really. I’ll never regret it.”

“Me either,” he smiled. “Now finish that so we can go.”

Their last night together at The Jug wound up being a lot of fun, but they didn’t stay out late. Dean drove them home while he still could, and rather than head off to bed, the two dropped down on the sofa and played old video games all night.

They woke the next morning with cricks in their necks from having fallen asleep on the couch, downed ibuprofen with their breakfast, and then Dean drove Cas over to pick up his rental van. The two carried boxes down from Castiel’s room, piling them into the van and trying not to mope as they did. But, it was the end of an era.

When they’d finished up the work, Cas brought down one last box, still open, containing the things he still might need in the hours before his departure. Dropping the box in the dinette, he laughed at the absurdity that they’d still not unpacked the boxes that now seemed to live there.

The first guest to arrive was Benny. He backed his truck up to the door and proceeded to help Dean unload the first of two kegs. A short time later, they were iced and tapped, ready to go. The first red solo cups were pulled out and filled, and not long after, Charlie and Gilda arrived toting a huge bakery cake with the words Congratulations and Bon-Voyage in huge letters amidst edible confetti.

The party was soon in full swing, their rickety table rocking as drinking games were played on it. The front porch was spilling over with people who’d stepped outside to either smoke or to cool off. Music was blaring and people crowded in, Cas getting all the hugs and well-wishes he could fucking stand.

Tessa came with her friends too, but her contribution to the party wasn’t found until morning. She didn’t stay long, but when she was leaving, she hugged him fiercely and thanked him for all he’d done for her.

“What have I done for you?” he asked, not even sure what she was referring to.

“You mean besides put Cole on his ass?”

“That was as much for me as it was for you,” he chuckled. “I hate assholes that use the word ‘fag’.”

Laughing again, she added, “you took notes for me more than once, did more than your fair share of the work, and you also managed to keep me from making a HUGE mistake with Dean.”

“Yes,” he laughed, “that one I’ll take the credit for. Not many say no to him, but he really only remembers the ones who do. So, instead of being a notch in his bedpost, you’ll forever be coveted in his memory. You’re welcome.”

“I’ll miss you,” she said, hugging him again. “Good luck in California.”

When he pulled away from her, Dean’s eyes were on him and he smiled across the room at his friend. Dean smiled back, their eyes staying locked longer than necessary. As they shared a warm look, Cas had to wonder how he’d missed it all this time… how had he never seen the love before? It was right there… all over Dean’s face. Seeing it so clearly warmed Cas from the inside and he knew he’d carry the feeling of affection with him all the way to California.

And, as he stood there with his eyes on Dean and the party swirling around them, Cas saw his friend’s facial expression change. Suddenly, Dean was moving. He pushed his way across the room and as Cas watched his friend approach, it was obvious that Dean was coming in for a hug. Opening his arms, Cas was thrown off balance when Dean didn’t stop. Bulldozed backwards, Castiel found himself pinned to the wall of their living room, the subject of squeals and shouts and catcalls from the crowd as Dean crashed their lips together and kissed him in front of everyone.

This wasn’t the soft and chaste kiss they’d shared as their goodbye. This was a hot, wet, open mouthed, soul-swallowing kind of kiss that Castiel could only melt into. Forgetting everything else, he wound his arms tightly around Dean's neck and lived this moment for all it was worth. Breathing heavily when they parted, Dean curled his fingers into Cas’s shirt and yelled over the noise, “I’ll do it, I’ll come out, I’ll tell them all. Hell, I’ll fuckin’ sky write it if I have to. Just don’t go, okay?”

Stunned beyond the ability to speak, Cas blinked and tried to take his eyes from the imploring green ones locked on his. He couldn’t look away, not to see who was watching, not to consider his reply, not for anything. Lost in the intense gaze of the only man he’d ever loved, he felt Dean’s hands move to his shoulders where they tightened as he tried again imploringly, “C’mon Cas, I need you man. Please. Just stay with me?”


	8. Life Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Destiella, for making time to edit this even though you're on vacation. You're spoiling me!

   

It was a warm and sunny afternoon in California, a perfect day for the opening of campus. Cas was perched on the steps of Branner Hall near the west doors, which were framed by two tall and slender Italian Cypress trees, part of a long line of them which ran the length of the building. They towered over his head, but offered no shade. Not that he needed it. The temperature was a perfect 74 degrees. At least, that’s what his phone said. Cas had been glancing at it occasionally as he lingered here waiting, but he was far too enthralled by the grandeur of the campus around him to really be glued to his phone.

Across the sprawling lawn, in the direction of the main parking lot, stood several mature palm trees, their fronds barely moving in the gentle breeze. These weren’t the tall palms that his mind associated with California. In fact, these were short and stout in comparison. To his left, over by the main entrance to the residence hall, were a set of sprawling shade trees that kept the main pathways cool and inviting.

Everywhere he looked, people were excited. There were parents walking proudly with their new freshmen, returning sophomores giddily greeting friends they’d not seen all summer, and even a few people chattering nervously and holding maps - likely lost and trying to figure out how to get where they needed to be. With a deep sense of satisfaction, Cas continued people-watching as he passed the time, completely content in the moment.

It was now the third week in August and summer was at its end. The time away from his schoolwork had flown by, his waking hours almost perfectly divided between working his summer job and enjoying a life which didn’t revolve around studying. Honestly, it had been the best summer he’d had since childhood.

As his eyes tracked the sky, following the silvery wisp of a thin cloud, Cas’s mind rolled back to May. He remembered with startling clarity the night Dean had kissed him and begged him to stay. Smiling as he thought of it, the scene played out in his mind again… Dean’s hands on him, gripping his shoulders, their eyes locked and unmoving as the man told him he’d come out with the hope that Cas would abandon his plans to head west.

The music must’ve been cut at some point, because in Castiel’s memory, the air was silent as Dean waited for his answer. Everyone, it had seemed, was waiting to see what Cas would say in response. But at the time, he’d only been vaguely aware of the room around him. Dean’s face had fallen from hopeful to fearful in a heartbeat, as though he’d never even considered the possibility of Cas saying no until precisely that moment.

Cas’s inner voice had been screaming that it was too late… that he’d been accepted at USF… that he had a dorm room waiting for him there, and that everything he owned was already packed into a rented van parked on the curb out front.

With his parents finally approving of his choices, his brother eagerly awaiting his arrival on the coast, and his winter coat already donated to Goodwill, there had seemed only one rational answer. But, no matter how hard his brain had argued the logic, it had been unable to sway his heart. What other answer could he possibly give Dean at this moment? “Yes,” he’d said, surging forward for another intoxicating kiss. Fuck it all, right? What mattered about his life if Dean wasn’t in it? California had been nothing but an escape route. A beautiful and enticing one, yes, but still nothing but a ‘plan B’ to focus on while he crawled away to lick the wounds inflicted by love. Sure, California had a lot to offer. But all of that paled in comparison to Dean’s eyes, and his smile, and his incredible heart.

If Dean was willing to come out for Cas, then Cas would be willing to rearrange his life for Dean. After he’d given his answer, they’d kissed again and, in response, a throng of happy cheers had ascended from those watching. Cas had been able to feel the curl of his friend’s lips as he smiled into their kiss and, when they broke apart, he watched as Dean’s false bravado, once again, paved the way for his underlying courage.

The man had turned to those watching with a trademark sexy smirk and shouted, “In case anybody didn’t hear all that... Cas is staying, I'm hot for him, and we’re gonna try the 'boyfriends' thing. So, any questions? No? Good." Then, plastering on his sexiest smile and addressing the room in loud yell, Dean added, "I guess this little ‘going away’ party has just become a regular ol’ Saturday night get-drunk-n-get-laid party!”

A chorus of resounding cheers rose up in response and suddenly the party was back in motion. The music was cranked up and people returned to dancing. Dean continued to downplay his coming out as he moved through the room with Castiel. “That’s right ladies,” he winked as they passed groups of sexy coeds, “Dean Winchester is officially off the market.”

Even now, with plenty of time to have second-guessed his decision, Cas wouldn’t have changed a thing. With the summer months drawing to a close and the fall term right around the corner, Cas still smiled fondly remembering the night he and Dean had become a couple.

That night, after the big coming out, he and Dean had gone to the kitchen to get fresh beers and then headed out to the porch where they could really talk. In the cool of a May evening, they’d sat for hours and discussed their plans.

The two had been interrupted frequently as friends stopped to talk to them, but Cas had loved the way they’d just eased back into the discussion again and again until the details had been hammered out.

Dean had offered to go to California together, saying he’d just take a year off and work until he could get accepted at a school near USF. Cas, however, hadn’t been willing to allow it. He’d told Dean he’d stay and he meant it. In the end, they’d agreed that the long term plan was California and that they’d go when they could do it right. Together.

That had meant cancelling all immediate plans and unpacking the van. The following morning, while cleaning up the mess left over after the party, they’d headed outside to bring Cas’s boxes back in from the van. Both had burst out laughing as they looked it over. Tessa and her friends had decorated it. There were strings of empty beer cans tethered to it’s bumper and signs in every window declaring the van to be California bound. The signs were comical, all soliciting honks of support, though some were more lude than others.

Cas chuckled at the memory of it all and breathed in the fresh California air. There was a warmth of nostalgia blooming in his chest and he just knew he’d never forget Dean’s ‘coming out’ kiss, the talk that had followed it, or the way Dean had pulled Cas into his room that night.

It had been incredible to look around the living room after the party had died down and take in the familiar scene… a few people lingering because they hadn’t successfully hooked up… a couple of guys playing video games on the couch while their girlfriends waited impatiently nearby… and an unholy mess that would be waiting for them in the morning. All of this was normal. But this time, he didn’t have to pretend not to notice as Dean tugged some girl into his room. No, this time, Cas had found _himself_ being pulled into Dean’s room. Finally, he was on the receiving end of Dean's smirk as the door closed on the rest of the house; and he was the one pressed up against the door from the inside while laughter and catcalls seeped in from outside.

Clothes had been feverishly discarded as the two had stumbled towards Dean’s bed. Knees had hit mattress, palms had pressed to skin. Lips had locked eagerly and soft moans had soon filled the air. “I’ve always liked it this way,” Dean had murmured to Cas when he’d been rolled into the ‘little spoon’ position.

There had been several times when one of them had pleasured the other like this and it had always felt very tender and loving to Cas. And so, laying on his side with Dean pressed against his front had felt like the most natural position in which to fuck Dean for the first time.

Thinking back on it, the memories of that first encounter were visceral for Castiel. He could practically feel the man’s body in front of him, pushing back eagerly as Cas’s fingers had gently worked him open. The sounds that Dean had made as he was breached for the first time were fresh in his mind, even now, playing on a loop as he remembered every touch. And the feel… the feel of Dean clenching around him when Castiel had steadily pushed forward and penetrated Dean’s virgin rim for the first time.

He’d gone slow - not wanting to overwhelm his friend. Perhaps it had something to do with Cas being careful, or maybe it was just Dean being incredible, but the man hadn’t hesitated once. He’d been eager and responsive as his puckered hole had stretched thin around Cas’s girth. He’d been panting and cooing as he reached back to grasp Castiel’s hip and let it happen. Never once had Dean asked Cas to wait or even slow down as they’d fucked. He’d professed to need it and love it and he’d called out Cas’s name loudly when he’d come, his body impaled obscenely and his cock spurting heavily into Cas’s hand.

After, neither had moved, not until Cas’s dick had shrunk and slid out. Dean had just rested there with Cas’s arm over his waist, practically cuddling, their bodies touching from head to foot. With his knees pulled up behind Dean’s bent ones, Cas had whispered how happy he was and Dean had turned his head back so that they could kiss over his shoulder.

The memories were lovely, as was the present day. But, at this point, he’d been sitting on a concrete step for almost half an hour. His ass was getting sore. Getting to his feet, Cas checked the time on his phone again and started walking. He paced up and down the length of Branner Hall, occasionally gazing up at the second floor windows of the front most western wing, where he knew Sam Winchester’s dorm room was located.

Dean was up there, still saying goodbye to his baby brother. Cas had excused himself shortly after they’d had lunch together in the stately dining hall. At that point, the younger Winchester had been settled into his room and there was nothing more to be done. Knowing the brothers likely wanted some time alone, Cas had come down here to wait.

When he heard his name, Cas turned to find Dean coming down the steps. Jogging back to meet his friend, Cas tucked his phone back in his pocket..

“Sorry to keep ya waitin’,” grinned Dean. “You know how it is… Sammy just had a hard time sayin’ goodbye.”

“Sure,” teased Cas as they fell into step together, “I bet it was all Sam.”

“You ready to hit the road?”

“Yes,” answered Cas, “and I’m ready to finally share a bed with you tonight.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout the G-rated motel stops, Cas. I mean, Sammy’s fine with me battin’ for the other team but I’m sure he’d prefer not to get too close a look.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dean, it’s been a great trip so far,” said Cas as they followed the sidewalk to the parking lot.

“This was a good idea, Cas. I mean, us bringing the kid out to Stanford and making a roadtrip of it? Fucking perfect. At first I didn’t think the ol’ man would go for it. But, hey, I guess since he didn’t wind up havin’ to spring for a plane ticket, it’s all good.”

“He even slipped you some gas money.”

“Yeah, a whopping fifty bucks. Big spender.”

“You expected more?”

“Not really. Thank fuck for factory work, right Cas?”

“I suppose,” agreed Cas. “It’s nobody’s dream, but it turned out to be a great summer job.” Once they reached the Impala, he stepped away from Dean and headed for the passenger side. Waiting for Dean to slide over and unlock it for him, Cas took one last look at Sam’s dormitory. The building was impressive, as was the rest of the campus. Hearing the clunk of the lock releasing, Cas tore his eyes from the architecture and opened the door to slide in.

Though the day wasn’t especially hot, the car was stuffy. He rolled down his window as Dean tuned the radio and then they were backing out. Both were quiet as they navigated the pristine roads that wound through campus and found their way back to the interstate. The car seemed empty now without Sam and all his stuff.

There was still an old green cooler in the backseat and Cas could hear the melted ice sloshing around in it as Dean turned corners and moved with the traffic. Both he and Dean had remained in their rental house for the summer rather than going back home to Lawrence. They’d spent their summer working at a factory across town. It wasn’t the kind of summer job that Gabe had been trying to get him, but he hadn’t minded it. Dean hadn’t seemed to either.

Cas had been the one to wake them every morning at five am and make coffee. Dean, always cranky until his coffee had kicked in, hadn’t made the mornings easy. But he’d driven them across town and back daily. As official ‘summer help’ in the factory, they’d been lumped in with a bunch of other students, some of whom had just graduated high school. They received no benefits or overtime pay, but they did get the July Fourth holiday off with pay. And, they received an hourly wage that put restaurant work to shame.

Covering their rent for the summer had almost too easy with both of them earning so much, and saving up for their road trip to California hadn’t presented much of a challenge either. Even after their expenses, the two still wound up having plenty of pocket money. With the campus mostly empty, there hadn’t been any high profile parties over the summer, but that suited them both just fine because they were so busy fucking.  All. The. Time.

By the end of the summer, Cas had leaned a few important things. First of all, Dean was quite an aggressive bottom. He liked it rough, he liked it kinky, and he liked it when Cas bossed him around.

Secondly, Dean looked amazing in lingerie. Panties, garters, stockings, all of it. Trips to Victoria’s secret had soon led to shopping online as well, and Dean now boasted an impressive collection of sexy apparel. He seemed to love wearing such things for Cas… and being spanked while he did. Cas’s drawer of toys had also morphed into a much larger collection, one that now included a riding crop and handcuffs, among other things.

Lastly, over the summer, the boys had learned that sharing a room wasn’t the imposition that both had worried it might be. Castiel’s room upstairs remained empty for most of June and July until Andy returned to campus.

His arrival a few days before they’d left on their road trip had put an immediate stop to their sexual olympics, which had spread throughout the house. There were no more mutual handjobs while watching television, which was kind of a bummer. And, sadly, the days of bending Dean over in the kitchen as dinner cooked were a thing of the past as well. But, shower handjobs every morning? Those were here to stay. The bathroom door had a lock on it, after all. So, even with Andy living upstairs, there would be no problem with joint showers.

Initially, Cas had worried that his parents would stop helping him financially if he reneged on USF. That’s why they’d gone ahead and let Andy move in even though Cas was staying. So far, nothing had changed financially between him and his parents, but the worst wasn’t over yet either. They knew he wasn’t changing schools, but he had yet to tell them that he was changing his major. The pleasure of that call was being saved for after their roadtrip. Dean was saving some news too… news for his father.

Not wanting John Winchester to stand in the way of their roadtrip, Dean had elected not to come out to his family until after. Sammy had, of course, been told in secret as they traveled. As Cas had anticipated, he’d taken the news well. In fact, he had seemed genuinely thrilled that his brother was in a committed relationship. The fact that his brother’s relationship involved Cas, someone he’d known his entire life, seemed to be a bonus for Sam.

Riding across the country with Sam had been fun. The new college freshman had been full of excitement each time they’d stopped in a new town - using his laptop from the tables of restaurants and the beds of cheap motel rooms to search out tourist attractions in the area. Dean didn’t seem to agree with Sam much regarding the choice of destinations for sightseeing, but he gritted his teeth and went along his brother’s itinerary again and again.

There was one firm line that no one was meant to cross as they traveled: music. By the second day, everyone in the car knew better than to touch that knob on the dash. Between the old cassette tapes their father had left in the car, and the radio stations that faded in and out as they put miles under their tires, it was safe to say that both passengers now carried a degree from the Dean Winchester University of Hard Rock.

Their time with Sam was over now, six precious days of bonding now culminating with some time in California. Watching Sam walk onto the Stanford grounds had been eye-opening. The young man was so reverent, so enthralled, and so completely enamored with his new life. Cas could remember feeling excited about leaving home, but he’d never experienced what Sam was feeling… total and complete awe for what would be his alma mater.

Dean, much like Castiel, seemed very susceptible to the charms of the coast. Constant fair weather kept them comfortable as they rode everywhere with the windows down. The ever changing scenery was enticing compared to the midwest, where never-ending fields and pastures were only interrupted by occasional towns, all of which seemed to look the same.

After dropping Sam off at Stanford, they drove north towards San Francisco, talking about everything and nothing. The plan was to spend a day or two in the city before beginning the long trek home because Dean wanted to see the USF campus, as well as some of the iconic sights in the area.

They traveled up the 101, exiting a few times to look around when something caught their attention. Honestly, there wasn’t been much to see as one town blended into another. But Dean seemed fascinated that the power lines were often anchored in water. The highpoint of the trip from Palo Alto to San Francisco wound up being their evening meal, eaten from a plastic tray at In-N-Out Burger.

Under Cas’s navigation, Dean kept his Impala heading North as they made their way into the city. When they glimpsed the iconic skyline for the first time, it was bathed in hazy afternoon sunlight, making the city seem like a magical place. At the sign for the Bay Bridge, they exited into an area Cas was familiar with. He knew it to be laden with bars, many of which he’d already been to at least once while visiting his brother. Nearby was the Union Hotel where he’d stayed with Gabe and Zar. It was very nice for the price, though it was significantly more expensive than most of the rooms they’d rented so far. Cas wasn’t a local, not yet, so he had no idea if this hotel was really and truly nestled into the beating heart of the city, but to him it certainly felt like it.

Tall, thin palm trees, like those on postcards, lined the street in both directions and a mish mash of different businesses were crowded together, some stacked on top of one another. There were banks, a check cashing place, a drug store, a pawn shop, a clothing store, a vietnamese fish market, a produce stand, and a taco bar all within a stones throw of their hotel. Around them the air was thick with scents and sounds and the energy of passers-by on the crowded sidewalks.

Finding parking wasn’t easy, but once they’d accomplished that feat, they were all set. Huffing as they trudged a few blocks uphill, Dean chattered enthusiastically about the many possibilities for tomorrow’s adventures. But, once they checked in, and the door of their room had been closed behind them, silence descended.

“It’s been too long,” sighed Dean, dropping his duffle.

“Since?” questioned Cas, wondering if Dean was referring to their first decent motel room in days.

“Since I had you to myself,” he grinned, stepping up to circle his arms around Cas’s waist.

Dropping his own bag to the floor, Cas leaned in and kissed his man softly once, pecking his lips sweetly before ghosting his lips along a stubbly cheek to whisper in his ear.

“Well, now that you’ve got me alone, what do you want to do with me?”

“I wanna fuck you, Cas,” whispered Dean.

All summer they’d been at it like rabbits, but this was the first time Dean had made a request for Cas to bottom. Well, aside from that one time, before they’d even been a couple. It had been St. Patrick’s Day weekend and Cas had been ejected from the bar for fighting with Cole. Dean had left the bar with him out of solidarity, and when they’d gotten home, the man had pulled Cas into his bed with a lame joke about flashing for beads. He’d blown Cas for the first time that night, and then asked to fuck.

Actually, that night had stuck in Castiel’s mind for quite a while now. He’d never really known why, but after that, Dean had stopped all sexual activity between them. They hadn’t messed around again for quite some time - not until the panties.

And that, Cas could see now, hadn’t been a conscious decision made by Dean to resume their little affair. It had been nothing but circumstance. Cas had been in the right place at the the right time… that was all. Dean had been vulnerable when he’d been busted wearing those panties and it had been sweet relief to have Castiel encourage his kink rather than shame him for it. That acceptance, combined with opportunity, had been the catalyst which brought the two of them back into a sexual dynamic.  

As Cas pondered these things, Dean was waiting for him to respond. So he did. “Yes, Dean, I’d love to be fucked,” he whispered, cupping his hands around Dean’s butt cheeks. Then, as he felt himself guided to the bed, Cas asked the question that was plaguing him.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you stop messing around with me?”

“What?” Dean asked, looking him in the eye this time.

“Last winter, after St. Patrick’s Day, you cut me off. Stopped everything. Why?”

“Does it really matter now?” he asked, rearranging his limbs as they laid down on the bed together.

“No, Dean, it doesn’t. But, I’m curious. I’d like to know what you were thinking at the time.”

Tangled with his own body on the bed, Dean’s began growing tense. It took a long moment for him to answer and when he did, his voice sounded pinched and tight. “I was,” he tried, looking away now, “I dunno, man, I was freakin’ out, I guess.”

“Freaking out? Why? Because you had sucked my dick?”

“No,” he chuckled, tension seeping away as his head dropped down to thump Cas’s shoulder. “It wasn’t anything we did, it was, well, it was actually something Gilda had said.”

“Gilda?” repeated Cas stunned.

“Yeah, man, she got me thinkin' about who I really wanna be with, ya know? Like, who I wanna curl up with at night and who I wanna sit 'n watch TV with... who I wanna spend my holidays with and stuff. And Cas, man, I started to see that you're the one I wanna be with, like, all the time. That's why I was shittin' my pants, I guess. 'Cause all my life I’d thought I was straight. Maybe a bit too close and comfortable with my best friend,” he allowed, “and maybe a bit curious about gay sex in general,” he chuckled, “but definitely straight. Goddam straight, Cas. That’s what I’d always thought. Or, it's what I told myself anyway.”

“Even after we started hooking up?” pressed Cas. "Even then you never really considered that you might not be straight?"  

“I suppose I did," admitted Dean, "I mean, yeah, I thought about it. But really, it was more like tryin' not to think about it, I guess. In the end it didn't matter though. We may have quit messin’ around, but I didn’t want you any less. So, yeah, the more I thought about it, the more I started seeing that you’re my person, Cas, and that I’m not straight. I've been calling myself 'bi' but I'm not really sure and I still feel weird about trying to give myself a label. I sure as shit don't like talkin' about it. Hell, if I had grown up with parents like yours, maybe I'd be different. But the ol’ man, he really beat the hetero into me, ya know?”

“I know,” sighed Cas softly, pulling his man closer. He didn’t speak again, burying his urge to discuss the issues they’d touched on. Dean wasn’t one for talking things out, and now that Cas had the answer he’d needed, he let Dean shut down. Cas was patient, by his very nature, and he knew he’d slowly be able to break down some of the defensive walls that Dean had built up over the years. There was no need to rush it.

The two laid together in silence for a while, naked bodies entwined on top of the coverlet. But when he started to feel cold, Cas whispered, “You said something about fucking me?”

“Hell yeah,” husked Dean, visibly shaking off the remnants of their conversation in favor of more enticing thoughts.

“I’m so ready,” groaned Cas as he stretched languidly, “I’ve waited a long damned time to get fucked by the legendary Dean Winchester.”

“It’s not that I havn’t wanted bone ya, Cas. I think it’s just that, well, gettin’ fucked is kinda new to me. It’s exciting. It’s what I mostly feel like doin’. But I’m sure it’ll all even out after a while.”

“I _love_ that you love to be fucked,” smiled Cas as he turned his back to Dean, “but I’m also glad it’s finally my turn.”

He was watching over his shoulder as Dean bent over the side of their bed to retrieve the lube from his bag. Then he slid up behind Castiel in the bed.

When the man’s heavy hand came to rest on his flank with a little bottle in it, Cas pushed his ass back into the warmth of Dean’s groin, smiling as he felt the man coming to life behind him.

“Yes,” he whispered as Dean dropped the bottle in favor of fondling Cas’s flaccid dick. Once it began to grow, Cas took himself in hand which left Dean’s hand free to prep him.

He welcomed those slick fingers as they pushed into him, spreading him, sinking in deep and making room for all that was about to fill him.

Dean had an incredible cock, Cas had always thought so. He’d never get enough of seeing it, licking and sucking it, watching it bob about as Dean rode him cowboy style, seeing it slide through his own hand as he jacked the man, or cupping it through soft satin as he pounded into Dean from behind. That cock was the embodiment of all eroticism and Cas wanted it feverishly. Relentlessly.

“Put it in,” he whispered, his patience already wearing thin. “I don’t care if it hurts a little,” he conceded, “I just want your cock, Dean.”

“Oh yeah,” groaned Dean, pushing Cas onto his stomach, “I’m gonna tear you up.”

Tucking his arms up under the pillow, Cas laid there exposed on the bed, his body on display for his man. “Look at that,” said Dean reverently as he parted Cas’s cheeks and sank his fingers back in.

“It’s yours,” breathed Cas with his eyes closed, “along with the rest of me.”

With that said, Dean spread Cas’s legs apart and Cas couldn’t help but push his ass up into the air to show how eager he was. Feeling Dean’s thighs settle between his own was salacious and he cursed as he felt a heavy cock come to rest in his crack.

Dean’s slippery hands picked up that cock and coated it, the slurping sound of excess lube filling their small hotel room as he did. Then he tormented Cas for a while, sliding his slippery dick up and down over his aching and needy hole, but never really sinking in.

“Come on, Dean,” he barked roughly, “don’t tease me. Just fuck me.”

As always, his friend responded to Cas’s domineering behavior. He didn’t hesitate to obey, pushing the head of his dick in and bearing down with all his weight so that the crown would burst past Cas’s rim like an explosion and set off fireworks behind his eyelids.

Suddenly impaled, Cas gasped into the pillow. Chuckling darkly, Dean gave him no pause. The man’s cock grew impossibly wider as it speared him, and Cas felt prickles breaking out across his lower back as he absorbed the first manifestations of searing pain.  

“Jesus, Dean,” he grit out, “you’re huge.”

Aborting his big, long push, Dean whispered, “Want me to slow down? Stop?”

“Do either one and I’ll kill you,” Cas growled, fisting into the pillows as he readied himself for more.

“Keep goin’?”

“Fuck yes,” he answered, marveling at how far he was being stretched. His rim was burning, hot and fiery around his man, and the place of their joining was all he could think of as he focused on just breathing in and out.

By the time Dean was fully seated, both men were panting. A few moments passed as they gathered themselves, and then Cas felt Dean adjusting his body and he knew that his man was about to start pulling back.

Looking back at Dean over his shoulder, Cas gave him an order. “Wreck me,” he said firmly, wishing they’d packed the handcuffs. It would’ve been nice to be anchored to the headboard as Dean laid into him. Without restraints, all Cas could do was grasp the spindles and hang on while Dean abused his tender hole, grunting as he fucked in deep and hard. Cas held fast as Dean laid into him, gasping out in ecstasy and loving how it felt to be so passionately ravaged.

There were no words for a while, only the protest of the bed beneath them, their rasping breaths, and the soft mewling sound that Cas was loathe to admit had been coming from the back of his throat.

Beneath him, hot and sticky and trapped under the weight of his body, Castiel could feel his dick throbbing helplessly under the power of Dean’s thrusts. It was needy and begging for attention, and Cas knew that he’d never be able to come like this.

Abandoning the headboard, Cas desperately worked to get a hand down under there. But with Dean’s weight on him and the rhythmic humping, it was impossible. “I need,” he panted, “I need -

Noticing that Cas needed something seemed to make Dean slow down and consider things. His punishing thrusts gradually morphed into sensual rolls and he seemed to come back to himself. Practically purring, Cas tipped his head back and Dean took the hint, burying his face in Cas’s neck as the two rolled onto their sides together, bending their knees as they went so they’d land in a spooning position.

Cas gasped as he felt the hard line of Dean slip out of him and he immediately reached around to assist in getting that dick back in where it belonged. Both groaned as they joined again, Dean’s hand coming to rest on Cas’s hip as the men sank into a languid love making. Cas rolled with his partner, finally able to bring his hand to his groin and stroke himself. When he quickly began building towards an orgasm, Dean noticed it and doubled his efforts from behind.

Then, with his friend’s breath on the back of his neck and a hard cock splitting him open from behind, Cas felt his body reach its tipping point. With his eyes scrunched shut and his mouth locked open in ecstasy, Castiel gasped and pumped a hot load from his tip.

With Dean still chasing his end, the man was pounding relentlessly into Cas as he came and the result was a messy spattering of cum as Castiel’s body rocked. Before Cas had even started to come down from his high, he felt Dean’s body seizing behind him, locked stiffly as it absorbed an onslaught of pleasure.  

Laying together in the aftermath, sweaty and sticky and exhausted, Dean whispered, “That was awesome. Fucking someone has never felt like that for me before.”

“I could say the same,” replied Cas. “You’re an amazing top.”

Dean had grown soft and slipped out of him and now and in place of the hardened cock that had ravaged him, Cas felt his lover’s spend seeping slowly out of his overworked hole. His rim was beginning to throb, a dull ache setting in that Cas knew would last for a day or two at least. He smiled knowing that every time he felt a twinge from it, his mind would transport him back to this hour of this day… to the time he’d given himself to Dean Winchester.

“We should clean up,” sighed Cas, hating to break their afterglow. But, honestly, he was starting to itch. In their room, the shadows were growing longer as the afternoon began to fade into the evening.

Dean was slow in getting up and Cas was fine with that as he took in the sight of his lover spread out over the bed, his tanned skin glowing in the tawny light. It was a downright shame to cover up that glorious body, but, the bathroom was actually down the hall. Stepping into pants, Cas grabbed towels and waited as Dean begrudgingly rose and dressed too.

“S’fuckin’ weird for everybody to share a bathroom like this,” he mumbled as they exited their room.

“It’s not so unusual around here,” replied Cas, leading the way. Thankfully, they didn’t have to wait. Cas stepped in and made room for Dean in the tiny space. By the time he had water going in the shower, Dean was once again snaking his arms around his lover, his chin coming to rest on Cas’s shoulder.

“Let’s stay in tonight,” Dean suggested with a yawn, “I’m beat.”

“Me too,” replied Cas as he stepped away from his friend and into the shower, “Stanford really took it out of me today.”

“Yeah, but it was a good day, huh?”

“Yes, it definitely was. And your brother seemed to like our gift.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” laughed Dean, “that damn flat screen is nicer than ours.” Cas hummed his agreement as he popped open the tiny bottle of hotel shampoo and squeezed some into his hand. “Oh, and thanks for goin’ in on that with me,” added Dean, taking the shampoo.

“Not a problem,” reassured Castiel. “I really wanted to do something nice for him. He’s worked so hard to get here. It’s quite an accomplishment to be awarded a scholarship to a school like that. Honestly, just getting accepted at all is an accomplishment. But to have the tuition paid for him? That’s really something to be proud of.”

“I’m proud of him, Cas, and so is Dad in his own way. He’ll take more credit for it than he deserves… brag to all his drinkin’ buddies about it.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out where Dean’s head was at. He’d be coming out to his father soon. The man wouldn’t take it well, that was a given. For Dean, Sam’s high would be the contrast to his low. Their father would brag about one son and bemoan the other.

“Well,” said Cas pointedly, “If your father’s own life is so devoid of fulfillment that the actions of his children can make or break him, then his children aren’t the problem.”

“I guess,” agreed Dean as they both went about lathering their hair.

“My parents aren’t going to be proud when I tell them my news either,” added Cas, “but I’m trying not to let it bother me. This is my life, right? I’m the one that needs to be proud of it. The same could be said for you and Sam, I think. We should all be trying to make ourselves proud instead of living our lives for someone else.”

“S’good advice,” nodded Dean, stepping under the spray to rinse. “When are you calling your parents?”

“When we get back. Why ruin the trip, right?”

“I guess if you can put it out of your head, then yeah, just make the call when we get home. But I’m not sure I can wait. I’m kinda thinkin’ I should just do it now, ya know? Just rip the fuckin’ bandaid off. Otherwise it’s all I’m gonna think about for the whole damn trip.”

Cas ducked in to take his turn under the spray, rinsing the bubbly shampoo from his hair. “If you’ll feel better having done it, then I think it’s a good idea.”

“I was only puttin’ it off so I wouldn’t have to worry about him bein’ an ass when it came to Sammy. The last thing I wanted was him sayin’ I couldn’t drive the kid out to school or some shit like that. But that’s done now and, bonus, we’re a thousand miles away. Seems like a good time, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” agreed Cas, reaching for a towel as he stepped out. Handing one to Dean, he began drying off. “Do you want privacy for the call?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even. “I could go pick up some food while you’re talking to him.”

“Could ya stay?”

“Of course, Dean.”

When they were clean and dry, the two headed back to their room and dug into their duffles. Dropping his worn pants to the floor, Dean pulled on fresh boxers and nothing else before seating himself on the bed with his phone in hand. Cas dug around to find his charger and laptop cable, arranging himself nearby and trying not to stare as Dean put his call through. He could really only hear Dean’s end of the conversation, but it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.

“Hey, Dad,” said Dean. Then he fell silent for a moment, presumably because John was speaking.

“Yep, got him all set up. Even had lunch with him right there at Branner Hall.”

Another moment of silence passed, and Cas tried not to watch his friend too closely, busying himself with his laptop.

“Yeah,” Dean eventually replied, answering some question that Cas hadn’t heard. “You should see the place. It’s crazy… looks like the inside of a palace or something.”

Dean let out a chuckle during the next silence, as though his father had perhaps made a joke. Then he spoke again. “No, we only met one of the roommates, but he seemed okay. There’s three of them sharing, but since the other dude was last, he got stuck with the shitty bed and the tiniest closet.”

Another pause followed, this one a bit longer.

“I think so,” said Dean, flashing a glance at Cas before looking back down at his fingers where they toyed with the hem of his worn underwear. “Looks like we’re gonna stick around Cali for a few days. Cas is accepted at USF so we’re gonna poke around some, ya know, see the school. We wanna see some of the sights too.”

Dean went silent again, and Cas allowed himself to look over. Dean’s eyes were on him but he looked away the moment Cas met his gaze. “Yeah, yeah,” Dean said into the phone, “It’s been a good trip so far. Listen, Dad, there’s actually a reason I called. I need to tell ya somethin’ but it’s probably gonna piss you off.”

In the few beats that Dean was silent and listening to his father’s response, his eyes flicked to Cas again and then darted away.

“What? No, no. Nothing like that - the car is fine. Dad, could ya just -

Cas looked over at his friend and saw him slumping in defeat as he tried to get a word in edgewise. Wanting to be supportive, Cas crawled up behind Dean on the bed. Letting his hand rest on his friend’s thigh, Cas just tried to be a reassuring presence.

“Look, Dad,” said Dean, sitting up straighter. “There’s no easy way to tell ya this so I’m just gonna do it. The thing is, Dad, I’m not straight.”

For a brief moment, the tense silence had Cas wondering if John Winchester had hung up on his son. Then, he felt Dean take a deep breath. “I don't know," Dean said with slumped shoulders, "but Cas is my boyfriend now.”

The silences were getting shorter, Dean’s responses coming faster.

“Yeah, we told Sam,” said Dean. “No, Dad, of course not. You really think I’d fuckin’ do somethin’ like that?”

Cas could feel the tension rising in his friend and laid his other hand to Dean’s right shoulder in an effort to further reassure him.  

“Fuck you,” Dean spat into the phone. “I fuckin’ knew you’d be a huge fuckin’ prick about this.”

Another tense silence followed and Cas’s heart went out to his friend. Honestly, this was sounding a lot more like Cas’s own coming out than he’d expected. With the exception of language, of course. Cas would never dream of using ‘the F word’ when speaking with his father.

In the end, things were bound to be worse for Dean though. Unlike Castiel’s father, Dean’s dad had no doting wife to help him come to terms with the change. For John Winchester, there was no calming presence, no yin to his yang. The surly man’s wife had been dead since his boys were young and no one had ever seemed interested in filling her abandoned post. Because of that, there would be no one to talk this man down, encourage him to see the bigger picture, or keep him focused on the importance of his relationship with his son. Poor Dean. After this initial coming out, the road to some kind of peace with his father would likely be a long one.

“I can’t fuckin’ help it,” Dean spat angrily into the phone, “and you can’t put that shit on me. If this is anybody’s goddam fault, it’s yours!”

Cas’s heart was breaking as he listened.

“Because I was born this way,” Dean yelled, “and you’re the one who made me.”

John was yelling. Cas could hear it, though he couldn’t make out the words clearly. Dean was reaching the end of his patience, it was obvious. Cas stroked his back in an attempt to reassure him. It seemed to work. His friend had been tense and angry up until this moment, but now he was making a focused effort to calm himself by taking a deep breath. Castiel took one with him. Then, in a much softer tone than he’d been using before, Dean cautiously said, “If mom was alive, she’d never let you talk to me this way. She’d accept me and love me no matter what.”

One beat of silence passed as John’s lack of response seemed to indicate consideration. Sadly, Dean’s words didn’t soften the man. When John Winchester finally responded, his tone was cold enough for Cas to hear it. “Yeah, right!” yelled Dean, in response to whatever had been said. And with that, he swiped angrily at the screen to end his call before flinging the phone down on the mattress.

In the silence that descended on the room afterwards, it became clear to Cas that spending the evening holed up in their room was no longer an option. If they tried, Dean would just be chewing on his father’s words all night long. Bars were out of the question too… letting Dean get drunk in this mood would help no one. Trying to think of something they could do that would help distract Dean, but in a good way, Cas thought back over his time in the bay area with his brother and Zar.

While giving the matter some thought, he pulled Dean backwards into his arms. The man came willingly, letting Cas soothe him, but he probably hated it. Cas knew his friend well enough to know that what Dean most likely wanted right now was something to punch. Unable to provide that, Cas simply opted for a good distraction.

“Feel like a drive?” he asked.

“Always,” Dean answered quickly, still angry and frustrated.

“Here,” said Cas, tossing his friend a pair of jeans. They dressed in relative silence and headed out, Dean thundering down the stairs on their way to the exit and crashing through the door with more force than strictly necessary. The man was visibly seething as they briskly walked three blocks to get in the car.

When the motor was running, Dean looked over at Cas and said, “Where to?”

“Stay on Mission,” he answered, leaning forward to pull a joint from the glove box. He knew that a little weed would go a long way toward helping Dean calm down. Trying for levity, he grinned at his friend as he lit up and said, “The good news is, weed is no big deal here. The bad news is, smoking anything, anywhere is damn near impossible in this city.”

Dean gave a cursory smile. If nothing else, it was evidence that he was trying to recover rather than linger in a state of anger. As they headed North, Cas rolled down his window and Dean did the same. He was careful to only give Dean two hits, that way his friend could still drive competently.

Dean Winchester loved his car and found driving cathartic, so Cas relaxed in his seat and navigated in the hopes that Dean wouldn’t have to worry about directions and could simply digest his thoughts as he drove. About forty minutes later, Cas directed Dean into a large public parking garage.

Looking at Cas questioningly, Dean asked, “We gettin’ out?”

“Sure are,” nodded Cas as he re-lit their joint. “Head up to the top so we’re not parking next to anybody.”

Dean seemed to understand that they needed privacy and found a parking space where they could smoke the last of their joint. “What’s the plan?” prodded Dean as they passed the weed back and forth.

“Walk the pier,” he answered. “Near the end there’s a house of mirrors like you’ve never seen. It’ll blow your mind.”

Dean grinned, took a deep hit and held it in as he passed the smoldering roach to Cas. “Get me fucked up and take me to a funhouse. Good call, Novak.”

Clamping his own hand over his mouth to hold back a giggle, Cas realized how buzzed he’d really gotten. By the time they’d finished smoking Dean seemed at ease, back to his normal self. So, with their cares mostly forgotten, at least for the moment, the two climbed out of the car and headed out onto the catwalk that connected the parking garage to the pier.

In the distance, the sun was going down and its hazy light was stretching out over the water in streaks of burnt orange and deep red. There was a cruise ship anchored at a nearby pier, its top half visible over the buildings in between. Throngs of people were enjoying the evening, children with balloons, lovers holding hands, tourists taking pictures, and teenagers goofing around. The salty scent of ocean swept past on a breeze and as they walked out onto the pier, they were swallowed up into the crowd. Charming stores with their doors wide open were inviting, selling everything from candy and tacky souvenirs to high dollar jewelry.  Dean smirked and flung an arm around Cas as he said, “Let’s check out the sea lions.”

They passed signs boasting the ‘world famous’ sea lions of pier 39 and ignored the printed facts in favor of simply watching the nearby wooden floats where the animals were resting. There were only a few, but it was impossible not to smile watching them yawn and flop around as they came and went, those on the floats barking at others whose noses broke the surface of the water nearby.

When Dean looked over from their perch at the rail and winked at him, Cas knew that coming here had been a good choice. As they moved on, the two ambled along, pausing to look at things that interested them. They peered in through the windows of stores, bickered playfully over what to eat as various delicious smells wafted their way, and bought fistfuls of salt water taffy as the sun dipped behind the water line.

After dark, the younger children were noticeably fewer in number. The music from restaurants and bars floated outside through open doors, and street performers worked the crowd. When they neared the end, Cas tugged Dean by the hand and pulled him through a sea of half empty tables towards a wooden rail. Leaning on it, they looked out over the bay. The bridge was lit up in the distance, and the lights of Alcatraz could be seen as well. Looking out over the water, with their backs to the crowd, Dean leaned in slowly and kissed Cas. It was just a little peck and a smile. But there was love in Dean’s eyes as they parted and happiness washed over him as they pushed away from the rail and headed back the way they’d come.

That’s when the fun really started. They ducked into 7D where they strapped into theater style seating with a dozen others. Each seat was equipped with a laser gun and when the massive, curved movie theater screen came to life, they were all in a video game. It was larger than life, an all encompassing experience. Their seats rumbled under them, rocking and tipping in correlation to what was happening on screen. All the while, they were targeting enemies on that screen with their laser guns over the backdrop of an apocalyptic battleground. Even for Cas, it was fun. But for a gamer like Dean, it was, “fan-fucking-tasitc!”

With one ride under their belts, both were exhilarated. But then Dean spent a small fortune to get them into another. The next was more like a roller coaster ride. Still, they were shooting the entire time and everyone’s score was tracked so that a winner could be declared at the end. Screaming and laughing like they were, time flew by. When they finally reached the hall of mirrors, it was almost closing time on the pier. This would have to be their last stop.

Dean had clearly been expecting something like a carnival fun house. But no, this was very different. The room appeared to go on forever, a trick of the mirrors. Across the open space were hundreds of pillars spread out in a grid like pattern across the floor, each rising up and spreading out to meet the others around it. The effect was elaborate archways that went on and on and on. Painted white, the arches all reflected whatever color was shone on them. Techno music blared and neon lights danced in time to the music, turning the entire space into a rave. This place was a far cry from the mirrored fun houses of roadside carnivals… this place was an acid trip.

Groups of friends were running, shouting to one another, thumping heads on mirrors and laughing as they lost and found one another again and again. Dean and Cas joined the fun, tentatively at first, then ambitiously as the lights flashed and pulsed around them. One moment Dean would be to his left or right, and then a moment later he’d be gone. The color and light patterns that danced over the arches changed with each new song as he and Dean worked their way through the maze to a heavy beat. Even trying to find the exit was a trip.

“That was awesome,” Dean breathed as they stumbled back out into the cool night air. Once again looping his arm around Cas for a few steps, Dean began them walking back towards the parking garage. Stores were now closing and people were leaving in droves. As the two fell in with the crowd, walking along the pedestrian bridge that led to the parking garage, something unexpected happened. Dean reached out took Cas’s hand in his.

Looking over, Cas saw a smile playing at his friends lips and returned it as he laced their fingers together.

Walking with their hands linked was something entirely new for them. Even as an ‘out and proud’ member of the gay community back at school, Castiel had never held hands with anyone outside of an LGBT venue or event. The midwest, for all it touted family values and Christian love, was not very accepting of anyone who was different. To hold hands on a public street back home would be to open himself up for surprised faces and dirty looks, possibly even unwanted negative attention like name calling. Yes, name calling. For adults, some people were quite childish.

But here in San Francisco, rainbows were everywhere and the acceptance of people like them was palpable. This was the only place Castiel had ever felt that it was truly okay to be what was he was. For Dean to be holding his hand right now, it seemed likely that his friend could also feel the magic of this place. Without a doubt, Cas knew he wanted to live here someday. And, as his friend tightened their hands, he knew that Dean was thinking the same thing.

They didn’t separate until they’d arrived at the Impala. The drive back to the hotel was quiet and comfortable and once they'd found a place to park, the two ducked into the bathroom before returning to their room. 

“I’m beat,” sighed Dean as they flopped down on the bed.

“Me too,” Cas replied, staring at the silhouette of his lover’s profile.

“We just dropped my brother off at his Ivy league college today...”

“Mhmm.”

“... and I came out to my dad.”

“You did.”

“And I fucked my boyfriend, too.”

“Yes, Dean, you certainly did.”

“It was a big day, Cas.”

“It was. Will you kiss me goodnight?” Even as he was asking, he was already turning to curl his body around Dean’s.

“I love this,” whispered Dean as he cupped Cas’s cheek and pulled their lips together. “This is what I came out for.”

“What, kissing?”

“You, Cas. I came out so I could be with you.”

It was hard, so very hard, not to tell Dean that he loved him. But, Cas knew his friend well. He hadn’t been raised hearing or speaking those words and, probably because of that, they were foreign to him. Difficult. Cas would work on it in the future, but for now, he showed his love for Dean in a way that his friend could easily see and understand it, one that didn’t make him uncomfortable. He showed his love by doing things with him and for him, by giving of himself and his time. That was a language that Dean could understand.

So,  rather than fill up this perfect night with uncomfortable words, Cas slid down in the bed and took off Dean’s shoes so he could rub his feet.

“Mmm,” purred Dean as he laid there and enjoyed it. Continuing until his friend seemed on the verge of sleep, Cas then kicked off his own shoes and laid down.

“Goodnight, Dean,” he whispered.

“‘Nite, Cas,” said his friend, bringing an arm to rest over Cas’s waist possessively. Both fell asleep on top of the covers, comfortable in the moment. It was Castiel who woke up cold in the night and tugged the blankets up over them.

When they got up in the morning, they drove over to the other side of the city. Circling the USF campus in Dean’s beloved Impala with their windows down, the two got familiar with the area. Dean had been curious about the school and once they’d had a look, they parked at a nearby Starbucks. Then, in comfortable seats over good coffee, they opened up Cas’s laptop and looked at other schools in the area.

“Man,” grumbled Dean, “there’s nothing for me even close to USF.”

“What do you mean, ‘for you’?”

“Well Cas, we both know you wanna go to school out here on the coast. And I can see why you love out here so much. I love it too and I’ve been thinkin’ that we could move out here together and do school, ya know? You could transfer to USF for your senior year and I’d just go to whichever community college was down the street from ya. We’d still live together, but instead of hittin’ The Jug after class, we’d hit… I don’t know, a wine bar or some shit.”

“You’d really move here?”

“Are you kidding?” Dean gaped. “This place is fuckin’ paradise. What were we thinkin’ when we chose schools?”

“Well, I don’t know what _you_ were thinking, but I was thinking, ‘I’d follow Dean Winchester anywhere.’ Literally Dean, any-fucking-where. Obviously.”

Dean smiled warmly and said, “Well it’s my turn to follow you now, Cas.” Pushing the laptop into a position where they could both see the screen, Dean brought up a google map and typed ‘san francisco college’ into the search bar.   

“There,” he chuckled, “See all those red dots? It’s like fuckin’ chicken pox. Now, pick a dot that you like, with a dot nearby where my application has a snowball’s chance of bein’ approved.”

Smiling warmly as he played along, Cas let his eyes rove over the screen as he thought about their future. “How about San Francisco State University?” he mumbled, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he said it. Before Dean could even speak, Cas was already staring at statistics. “They have a seventy percent acceptance rate,” he said to his friend, “that’s not too much different than where we are now.”

“Well, I gotta be honest Cas, a state university would sound a shit-ton better on my resume than community college. Where would you go?”

“Same place.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

“I like it,” grinned Dean, “let’s call that the plan and work on settin’ things up.”

“I can tell you right now that we’ll pay more, but I’m fine with that if you are.”

“What’s one more loan at this point, right?”

“Exactly. But we’d have to live on campus. There’s no way we could afford a house in that area no matter how many roommates we had.”

“We’ll be seniors then,” shrugged Dean, “I can deal with an RA for one damn year.”

“Where are you going?” asked Cas as Dean rose from his seat.

“I gotta hit the head before we leave. We’re goin’ out tonight, right?”

“Yes, definitely,” smiled Cas, closing his computer and clearing their trash as Dean walked away. With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Cas gathered their things. As far as he could tell, their future looked bright. They’d spend one more year shoveling snow and freezing their dicks off in the midwest. That would give them time to prepare for a move to California. They’d spend their senior year sharing a dorm room here in SF and then after graduation, Dean would find a job and Cas would either do the same, or go continue on the path medical school.

He’d been brooding about med school for quite a while now, uncertain and frustrated. More than anything, he didn’t want to make a mistake with his entire future on the line. Deep down he feared waking up an old man and realizing that he’d wasted the best years of his life busting his ass to become a doctor when that hadn’t even made him happy. But, he also didn’t want to wake up an old man and realize that he’d thrown away med school just because it was so much work, and spent his adult years wishing he’d followed through with it. Honestly, he could see it going either way.

Now, after much consideration, Cas was starting to realize that if he was truly meant to be a doctor, being one year behind wasn’t going to make or break him. So, right there in Starbucks, Cas decided to give himself a year off to decide. When Dean came strutting out of the bathroom, he slung an arm around Cas and the two exited to the street, slid into the car and headed back towards the center of the city.

Once again playing co-pilot, Cas navigated Dean into the Castro. Parking in front of a store called Knob’s, they locked up and headed inside. Knob’s was basically a men’s underwear store, but they also sold fun and catchy t-shirts as well as other clothing. He and Dean spent almost an hour in the store, shopping for both themselves and each other.

When they’d combed over everything, the two compared their favorite items. Cas showed Dean the black thong that he’d picked out for him. It was cut perfectly for the man’s incredible hips and was so sheer that his package would be quite visible through the material.

As it turned out, Dean had picked out a pair for Cas as well. They were cut like boy shorts but, much like those that Cas had chosen for Dean, these were made of such a thin mesh that they were nearly see through. The shimmering ice-blue undies had an iridescent sheen that hovered somewhere between periwinkle and indigo. “I think they match your eyes,” said Dean with a sexy smirk.

“I love them,” Cas said as he added them to his stack. Once they’d looked over everything and made some hard choices, they each purchased a few pair along with a few other things.

Back in their hotel room, as they cleaned up and got ready to go out, Dean slid into his new thong.  

“This is a nice pair,” said Dean. “They feel good and they’re more manly than the ones you usually pick for me.”

“They are?”

“Yeah, I mean, you know I love the panties, but these just seem more… me. Like I could wear them for something besides sex, ya know? I mean, I could wear these under my regular clothes.”

“I wish you would,” grinned Cas, trying to keep his inner horndog down.

Stepping into the pair Dean had chosen for him, Cas was surprised by how much sexier he felt in them compared to his regular boxers. The feeling of sensuality remained, even after he’d put on his clothes. Looking over at Dean as he was putting on his shoes, they shared an eager smile.

So, beneath their best jeans and tight t-shirts, each was wearing panties chosen by the other when they headed out into the city for a night of debauchery. To avoid parking issues and having to count drinks, they took an uber over to the first venue. The place was a bit out of the way, but Cas remembered it being a good place to warm up.

“The Cinch?” questioned Dean with one eyebrow lifted. “Really Cas? A cowboy bar?”

“I know what you like,” he grinned wickedly. “Don’t even pretend you’re not into it.”

“M’jus’ sayin’,” snarked Dean, “if ya knew we were comin’ here… then why were we in an underwear store today instead of a hat store?”

“A miserable mistake,” agreed Cas. “An oversight that approaches incompetence.”

“Damn right,” chuckled Dean, thumping Cas on the shoulder as the two crossed the street and headed into the bar.

The interior was dark and at a glance, its decor seemed predictable. So, Cas waited patiently for his friend to start noticing things as he ordered the first round. Having been told that Moscow Mules were only six bucks, they agreed to try them despite having no idea what to expect.

Now, holding his frosty brass mug, Cas looked at Dean and said, “these are delicious.”

“Yeah, not bad,” nodded his friend, never one to be overly complimentary. They had two more each before heading to the back to start a game of pool. It was only when they were standing around waiting to play that Dean began noticing the framed artwork on the walls… the racy pictures of men, mostly cowboys in various states of undress and carnal pleasure. There were huge cocks behind wide belt buckles and, the crowning jewel, a framed print depicting a naked man being fucked by a lion with a caption that read, “Animals Love Maneaters.”

“Well fuck,” laughed Dean as he gaped, “ain’t that somethin’?”

They teamed up with a couple of guys to play doubles, Dean’s uncanny skill in the game serving them well. Despite Castiel’s ineptitude, they wound up actually winning enough money to cover their tab.

As the hour grew later, the men moved on to another bar. It was here that they were sucked into a club environment. Tunes were spinning and fake fog rolled over the crowd, laser lights cutting through the haze like knives as the people danced beneath, many men shirtless or even wearing leather bondage gear..

There were also plenty who, like Dean and Cas, were wearing regular street clothes. Some eye catching costumes moved through the crowd as well. Already buzzing hard, Cas didn’t hesitate to pull Dean out onto the dancefloor before they’d even ordered a drink.

Ever since Spring Break, he’d been eager to return to the Bay area and lose himself in this glorious and magical city… this Oz that he’d slipped away to. Not only had he been anxious to return, he’d wanted to share this experience with his best friend turned lover.

Cas has been dying to show Dean how completely enthralling life can be when you consciously  break from the judgement of others and just _come out_. Dean seemed uncomfortable for about a half a second when they first moved out among those dancing. But, when their eyes met, he seemed to read something in Cas’s face, something that reminded him not to hide himself away. And then, with a firm nod, Dean began to dance.

Several songs later, Cas actually had to pull his man back off the floor to go and get drinks. “I’m thirsty,” he pleaded, tugging Dean by the hand. They bellied up to the bar and ordered garish drinks, pounding them down before getting another round to carry back out onto the dance floor.

Completely inebriated now, Cas grew bold. As colorful costumes and bare chested men swirled around them on the dance floor, Cas slid his fingers into the waistband of his man’s jeans. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he undid Dean’s fly. Dean grinned wildly at Cas as his pants slid down an inch or so, coming to rest around his hips, low, while he moved to the music.

Next, Cas made a show of removing his own shirt, pulling a portion of the material smartly though one of his belt loops so he didn’t have to choose between holding it and losing it.

He was sweaty from dancing and he knew that his skin was glistening under the colorful lights. Never taking his eyes off Dean’s for long, Cas enjoyed seeing the hungry look in his man’s eyes as they traveled over him. One more song, one more shot, and then Dean was pulling his t-shirt up over his head as well.

When they’d both joined the ranks of the shirtless men around them, the two embraced, their bodies grinding together skin on skin. Dean’s sexy black thong was showing over his undone jeans and Cas slid his hands inside, grasping the thin string of it in both hands as he writhed with his lover to the thumping beat of heavy house music.

It was too loud to hear each other without screaming, so they didn’t bother. They just watched one another with eager eyes as they grew progressively bolder. A quick rest at the bar while they pounded another round, and then they were back at it, humping madly into one another amidst a sea of sweating bodies. Others touched them from time to time, coy smiles showing their intentions as they tried to join, but they rebuffed them all, keeping only to themselves.

Cas could see that encouraging Dean had brought out the man’s wilder side. He was unabashedly dancing now, not only letting his jeans sink lower on his hips, but pushing them down more and more with his palms as he ran hands over his own body seductively.

“Take them off!” shouted Cas, unable to control himself.

Dean, clearly considering it, shook his head no. But, he turned his back to Cas and ground his ass into him seductively, raising his hands over his head as an encouragement for Cas to put his hands on him. The strings of his thong were highly visible as Dean teased the world with his sexy body and the sight of that single black line running down between his cheeks until it disappeared into his jeans was making Cas hard in his pants.

His man was so sweaty that he was slippery and Cas’s hands found no purchase on shoulders, pecs, or hips as he ran them over his lover. Dean’s eyes were bright and electric as he danced and Cas cupped Dean’s ass through the denim as often as possible, sometimes indulging himself by letting his finger toy with the visible strings of the thong he’d bought.

When they began to tire, they returned to the bar and pounded two more shots. Then, with a fresh round of drinks in hand, they leaned against the wall near the bar to watch the spectacle. With his mind set on living out a long cultivated fantasy, Castiel leaned into Dean’s ear and propositioned him with a trip ‘to the back’ where they might ‘find some privacy’.  

Dean agreed enthusiastically and Cas pulled him by wrist as he cut through the crowd towards an unmarked door. With no big brother here to stop him, and his partner not a stranger but a committed lover, Cas pushed through the painted steel door with every intention of doing some very bad things.

On the other side of the door, the men found themselves in a wide hallway. It was dark and dirty back here, the walls covered in graffiti. In the dark pooling shadows, others were here too, clustered along the walls in groups of two, three, or more, all lost in pleasure but still aware of being visible as they discarded any sense of propriety in exchange for the thrill of hooking up in a public space.

Looking around, Cas saw men in various states of sexual fulfillment. There were men on their knees, men being pressed against the wall, men bending over. Cocks were out, glistening wet as they moved in and out of eager mouths and prominently displayed asses. Heavy breathing, moaning, groaning, and cursing were loud enough here to compete with the muted thump of bass that was seeping in from the club, and Cas was weak in the knees from the enticing promise of salacious dirty deeds that awaited him here.

Just being back here was erotic, and beside him Dean was gaping at all he was seeing. For a single heartbeat, Cas wondered if Dean wasn’t into it. But then, he felt himself pulled forward and Dean was leading him down the hall. When they’d found an empty spot that seemed agreeable, the two turned to face one another and smiled eagerly as their mouths crashed together.

Knowing that Dean would like it and driven wild by lust, Cas spun his lover around and flung him up against the wall. “Yeah,” called some faceless stranger watching, and then Cas was shucking Dean’s jeans down. He didn’t shove them to the floor, but instead purposefully exposed only the round curve of Dean’s perfect cheeks, wrapped up in black string like a dirty gift from the gods of sex.

With Dean’s bowlegs holding the denim in place, Cas leaned in and ran his tongue down the center of Dean’s back, smiling wickedly as he continued lower. Moving the string aside with his finger and thumb, and Cas plunged his tongue into his man’s sticky, sweaty crack - not even caring about the salty, bitter taste of it. He didn’t care about the used condoms or trash on the floor either. He just fell to his knees as he sank in, his greedy carnality erasing everything but the pleasure of being witnessed in this nefarious act. In fact, as he milked moans of pleasure from Dean with his lips and tongue, Cas was moving a free hand to his own ass, pushing down his jeans so that anyone who was watching could see his panties… the ones Dean had picked out for him. He felt sexy through and through and he wanted to show off.

Against the wall, Dean was preening his ass too… reaching back to hold his cheeks apart as Castiel worked him over. Maybe he was just trying to give more access, but it also seemed possible that Dean was feeling just as lewd and raunchy as Cas, and was exposing himself solely for the thrill of it.   

Returning both hands to Dean’s ass, Castiel began working the pad of his finger into Dean’s twitching pucker. When it was enveloped, the tantalizing sensation of being gripped ignited a new fire of lust in him, and he found himself plunging back to lap his tongue around the sloppily wetted entrance. Licking in alongside his engulfed finger, Cas began adding a second digit. With two, and soon three, Cas spread the man’s tiny hole and felt the puckered skin smoothing as it was stretched progressively wider.

Dean was audibly begging to be fucked as Cas worked him open, the jeans eventually being pushed lower so that Cas could get his hand into the tight space between Dean’s legs and stroke his perineum. Hooking his buried fingers, Cas drew curses from Dean and grinned wickedly as the man arched his back in the desire to be fucked.

In his peripheral vision, Cas caught sight of a new couple approaching to use the space next to them. So, as a stranger was sinking to his knees nearby, Cas was rising up. Shoving his hand down into his sheer undies, Cas hurriedly pulled his dick out.  It was hard as a rock and aching with need as it met the cool air of this dim hallway. Fishing into his side pocket, Cas pulled out the tiny sample sized bottle of lube he’d brought and squeezed some into his palm. Then, as he slicked his own shaft, Cas foisted the bottle into Dean’s hand and said, “Hold that. If you drop it, it’s staying down there.”

Duly warned that more lube would only be available if he didn’t drop it, Dean clutched the bottle tightly and then kicked one leg free of his jeans. Cas stood tall, stroking his cock languidly as he watched Dean free himself from his pants and spread his legs apart eagerly, still proudly wearing his thong. Moving forward to take his place at Dean’s rear, he lined up with the dark spot between his lover’s cheeks, moved the single string aside, and pressed his crown to Dean’s hole in preparation to enter.

Dean, probably as carried away as Cas was, shoved himself back eagerly and pushed himself onto Cas’s dick, managing to capture the head with his rim. With that ring of tight heat gripping his tip, Cas let out a long groan. His moment of rapture was interrupted only by Dean’s husky voice.

“Make me feel it,” he commanded.

“The only free souvenir in San Francisco,” chuckled Cas darkly, his hand wrapped tightly around his own shaft, “is the sore asshole you’ll be walking out of here with.”

“Ya gonna talk about it, Cas?” taunted Dean. “Or ya gonna fuck me?”

Borrowing a move from his man, Cas made the first thrust a merciless one. He knew from experience that the shocking combination of pleasure and pain accompanying the action was scintillating. And, as he was pitched forward into the wall, Dean grinned wildly. A look of utter satisfaction glazed over his eyes as the side of his face pressed against the cool but rough block wall.

On the pull back, Dean moaned sinfully and arched his back impossibly further, keeping himself poised and ready for another thrust, eagerly anticipating the moment when Cas would rock back into him again. Unable to resist an ass so artfully displayed, Cas dealt out a heavy open-handed slap to Dean’s cheek.

Dean screamed out his approval of the action even as Castiel was watching the man’s soft flesh reverberate. A pink spot remained where Cas’s hand had fallen and he repeated the action as he sank back in. Proud of his perfect timing, Cas dealt out another swat with each thrust as he set a steady pace. With one hand holding back the thong and his other dishing out spankings, Dean held his frame like a good boy, loving his public punishment and clearly not wanting Cas to slip out of him.

When Dean’s cheek was a fiery pink, Cas dropped his hand to his lover’s hip and began focusing on the feeling of fucking his lover. The eroticism of being watched as he did was so provocative that his climax was rushing up on him. Wanting to delay it, Cas looked away from the sight of his wide cock spearing Dean open and the sexy body that welcomed it. But, with the men all around him similarly occupied, there was nowhere to look that didn’t add to his arousal. He came quickly, unable to stop it or slow it down, and when he’d pumped his spend into Dean, he pulled out to watch his cum leak down from Dean’s exposed hole. As he let go of the string, it slid back into place between Dean’s cheeks. Trailing his finger through the jizz as he stepped back, he let Dean watch him raise that slick finger to his lips as he turned away from the wall to pull his pants back on.

Their eyes met as Cas licked Dean’s taste from his fingertip and he watched Dean smile darkly. “Don’t zip up,” ordered Cas, once more sinking to his knees on the dirty floor. With a knowing look, Dean brought his jeans up but left them sagging open. His cock was huge, visibly pushing up and out because the material could no longer contain it.

Opening his mouth, he waited for Dean to pull his dick out and actually place it on his tongue. Then, moaning on that perfect cock, he impaled himself. Feeling Dean’s hand come to rest on his head spurred him on and he clenched his fingers down over Dean’s in an effort to tell the man that all bets were off tonight… that he was free to pull Cas’s hair, shove his head down, fuck his mouth… anything. Everything.

Dean took the hint and pushed in deep, his fingers twining into Cas’s hair and pulling tight as he shoved his head down. Cas gagged as the man’s crown struck the back of his throat, not just once but again and again as he was muscled into bobbing his head at a feverish pace. Letting himself be used was lascivious and he didn’t fight it, even when tears streamed down his face. He just wanted to do what made Dean feel good, or what Dean wanted others to see them doing.

When he was finally let up for air, Cas sucked in a deep breath and swallowed while he had the chance. As he did so, Dean was smacking the side of his face with his engorged cock. As soon as he was able, he turned his head to capture it again. Sinking down exuberantly with his lips wrapped around his teeth as he bit down, Castiel tried to be as tight around his lover’s girth as possible. He gave it his all, swallowing a salty mix of pre-cum and coppery saliva between the thrusts that Dean dealt out to him, the back of Cas’s head cradled in Dean’s powerful hands as it happened.

When his man finally came, he pulled out, painting Cas’s face with his spend. Leaving his mouth open eagerly, he took some in and swallowed it with the hope that seeing his lewd act would increase his man’s pleasure.

Once it was over, Dean pulled him to his feet and the two kissed deeply. Then, with a soft chuckle, Dean tugged the t-shirt from his belt loop and tenderly wiped Cas’s face with it. Turning back towards the club on weak knees, they left the hall of sins behind.

“That was fuckin’ insane,” shouted Dean as they pushed back through the noise and the crowd on the dance floor.  

“Hot,” shouted Cas from behind as they pushed towards the exit. “That was fucking hot!”

“You’re hot,” grinned Dean over his shoulder.

It was only when they stepped back outside that the two remembered that they had to summon a ride. Once he’d used his phone to do it, Cas sagged against the exterior wall of the club. The fever of their passionate joining was passing now that they were out on the sidewalk. His legs were shaky from blowing his load and his ears were ringing from a night of loud music. As they leaned side by side and waited to be picked up, Cas felt himself returning from Oz and pondering just how far they’d gone. He’d loved the experience, and he hoped that Dean had no regrets. Turning towards his man, Cas let himself look over Dean’s face for signs of his mood. When their eyes met, Dean deepened the gaze. “This,” he said firmly, “was the best night of my life.”

Thrilled with the words, Cas smiled warmly and said, “So far.”

Back at the hotel, they stripped down and climbed into bed naked, pulling one another into a warm embrace. Trading lazy kisses as they relaxed, both were soon drifting off to sleep.

The following morning, they rose despite their pounding heads, and prepared to leave San Francisco.

It would have been nice to stay longer, but classes were starting soon and they were already cutting it close with this trip. Plus, one of the tourist traps that Dean had skipped for Sam’s benefit had been the Wyoming Territorial Prison. He was dead set on seeing it on the way home and that meant leaving today if they wanted to have a prayer of getting back on time.

“Really Dean? With all there is to see in the city, you want to leave a day sooner just to visit an old prison in Wyoming?”

Leveling a look at Cas, Dean had simply said, “It’s The Big House, Cas. Butch Cassidy was a prisoner there. Fuck yeah, I wanna stop there.”

Grinning, Cas continued folding their things into a bag. He’d made use of the laundry facilities while they were here and now they had enough clean clothes to last all the way home.

“Do we have any aspirin?” asked Cas.

“Yeah,” said Dean hardly looking up from his phone as he gestured towards his duffle.

Cas knew that Dean was watching his phone closely in the hopes of word from his father. But sadly, he could think of no consoling words. As they checked out, gassed up, and filled their beat up cooler with fresh ice and provisions, Dean continued checking his phone anxiously.

Feeling compelled to say something, Cas tried to reassure without giving false hope. “Your father loves you, Dean. But he is what he is. This is going to take some time. Hell, it could be months or even years before you hear from him.”

“I know,” Dean admitted, setting his phone down on the seat between them. “And it’s not like I’m going to agree with anything he says when he finally calls so I’m trying not to think about it, but it’s not easy.”

“Call Sam,” suggested Cas. “I’m sure he’d love to tell you about what’s been happening these last two days.”

“Good idea,” nodded Dean.

As they headed back east, Cas dozed off in the passenger seat as Dean drove and chatted with his brother. Aside from being in good company, there wasn’t much to enjoy about the return trip. They did nothing but drive and sleep, trying to make decent time. The only fun stop they made during the long trek home was the former old-west prison, preserved as a tribute to the bygone era of stage coaches and outlaws. The sight was in Laramie and Dean was excited the moment they rolled into town. So, when the opportunity arose, Cas decided to be a good boyfriend and buy Dean a souvenir cowboy hat. Sadly, the effort only opened him up for ridicule.

“Um, thanks man,” said Dean with an eye roll. “They sell any men’s clothes where you bought this?”

“That’s a man’s hat.”

“It’s a childs hat.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, it’s made of straw for starters,” grumbled Dean, turning it in his hands as they crossed the parking lot. “And what the fuck is this?” he added, running his finger along the red ribbon which was inked with the name of the souvenir shop.

“Dean, that comes off.”

“Seriously? You went into a hat store and this is what you came out with?”

Summoning patience, Cas sighed and said, “I worked in a factory for the summer. I’m a student, Dean. That’s the hat I can afford now.”

“So,” teased Dean with a straight face, “you’re saying that I have to wait through two more years of college and then four years of medical school before I can get a decent cowboy hat?”

“You know who really loves cowboys, Dean?” huffed Cas, “Three year olds.”

“Too far,” he grinned, “that’s one step too far, partner.”

“Are we going to tour this prison or not?” goaded Cas.

“Yeah, man,” said Dean, setting his generic cowboy hat on his head, “and then I’m wearin’ this ugly ass hat ‘til we cross the state line.”

Then, with Dean wearing his ridiculous hat, the men toured the grounds slowly so as not to miss a thing. They walked across the packed dirt courtyards and mugged for silly selfies in front of the horse drawn paddy wagon. After they’d scoured every nook and cranny, they headed for the Buffalo Bill Historic Center. Cas lingered behind  for a few steps to admire the bowlegs as his man strutted towards the door. “We should have a halloween party this year,” he suggested when they fell into step again. “We could get you a decent hat, some chaps… you could even wear your boots.”

“Sounds good, buddy,” agreed Dean as he dropped his arm around Cas’s shoulders. “What are you gonna be?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

“Scrubs? So predictable.”

“What if I wear some sexy panties underneath?”

“Now yer talkin’.”

Before leaving, they made sure to pick up postcards that they could send to Sam and Gabe, despite Dean’s insistence that he’d never actually take the time to write and send them. Cas would make sure it got done, and he gave his man a stern look that implied punishment for disobedience which was received with a knowing smirk. Then, ready to go, they climbed back in the car and talked about cowboy legends for most of the afternoon as they drove across the wide open spaces of Wyoming.

The rest of the way home they never stopped for anything but gas and bathroom breaks. Behind schedule, the two took turns sleeping while the other drove and kept Baby in motion constantly. When they finally arrived at the house, they were greeted by Andy and a few friends who were all clustered on the couch playing a video game. There was a stack of old pizza boxes on the table, empty cans and bottles covering every level surface, and piles of Andy’s half opened boxes had joined the stacks of Dean and Cas’s boxes that were still sitting in the dinette.  Both men were road weary so they lingered only a moment with their friends before heading to their room. Dropping their bags at the foot of the bed carelessly, both of them flopped down on it.

“Man, that last hundred miles was a sonovabitch.”

“Yes,” agreed Cas, “it was. But Dean, I’m so glad we went.”

“Oh me too,” he said, kicking off his shoes. “Although, man, is it good to be home.”

They only had one day to recover before classes started. And, sadly, most of that day was spent in line at the bookstore. When they returned to the house, laden with heavy books and sacks of groceries, there was loud music playing and Andy’s friends were goofing off in the living room. The place was still a mess.

“Home sweet home,” said Dean sarcastically as they made their way through the commotion.

Setting his bags down on the counter, Cas grabbed a trash bag and began cleaning up. With a sigh, he looked over at his friend and said, “More like home sweet party house.”

“I’ll cook if you clean,” proposed Dean with a shit-eating grin.

“Fuck that. We’re both cleaning,” bit Cas. Dean begrudgingly began helping and soon they had the place whipped into shape. Cas made a mental note to discuss some sort of cleaning rotation with both his roomates and then sat down to start looking over his new text books.

This year, things would be easier. He had no science or math classes at all. And, for the first time since graduating high school, his schedule contained some courses he actually wanted to take. He had an Ethics class whose professor was widely known on campus for his engaging debates. He was also taking the comparative literature class that Dean had taken last year. Actually, it was hard not to be excited about the start of school when he thought of how different the experience would be. After all, he was excited about his classes, looking forward to having more time with his friends, and he was dating the man of his dreams. Feeling buoyant, Cas decided that now was the best time to call his parents. Keying in their number, he took a deep breath. “Hello, Mom,” he said when she answered. “How are you?”

“I’m fine dear, how was your trip?”

“It was good. Stanford was incredible.”

“Were you able to spend any time at USF?”

“A little,” he hedged. “Is Dad around?”

“Sure sweetie, I’ll get him.”

Once they were all on the line together, it took him a few minutes to work up the courage. Outside his and Dean’s bedroom door, Cas could hear his friends laughing and having fun and it occurred to him that all he had to do was finish this call and he could join them. There was no MCAT to worry about, no preparation required for his classes, and no tudor needed to help him pass any of them either. Things were going to be laughably easy this year… and he was going to enjoy it. He’d also be using the time to think about what kind of life he actually wanted to have… what kind of work he wanted to do when school was finished… and what kind of education he’d need in order to do it. Maybe he’d find that he missed the challenge of his advanced level classes. Perhaps he’d realize that he really did want to be a doctor after all, and that it would be worth the hard work to become one. Or maybe he’d find some other dream that he’d never even known he had. Regardless, at this point, his life was full of potential. And that, he realized, is exactly how it’s meant to be.

“So, son,” said his father, “what news do you have for us today?”

“News?” he stalled.

“I’m assuming you have news, that’s the only time you ever call us.”

“Oh,” he said nervously, “I guess I just get caught up in things and don’t think to -

“Don’t worry about it sweetie,” interrupted his mother. “We were your age once too, we remember what it’s like.”

Cas chuckled as he heard his father’s put-upon sigh.

“Okay,” he said, trying to phrase things in ways that would sound good to his parents, “I really appreciate you guys being willing to let me stay here one more year. After visiting some schools on the west coast, I think it’s safe to say that’s where I’m headed next year. And I understand you guys wanting me to get my degree from a certain kind of school. But, honestly, my counselor and mentor both agree that acceptance to medical school isn’t contingent on where I matriculate from. What’s going to matter most are my grades and a respectable MCAT score. So, I hope you’ll keep that in mind. It might be USF next fall, or it might be some other school. But, regardless of where I go, I will work hard and do my best to make you guys proud.”

“We are proud of you honey,” affirmed his mother.

“Thanks, Mom. I know I’m still young and I have a lot of decisions to make. I’m trying to make the right ones, but it’s hard because sometimes I don’t even know what I really want from life. And, I always have people telling me that these are the best years of my life and I shouldn’t waste them.

“That’s true,” his mother agreed.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you say that. Because I’ve decided to take a year off from the medical school track and really consider my options. I’ve decided to change my major.”

There was a long silence followed by the clearing of a throat. “What,” asked his father tentatively, “do you plan to change it to?”

“Undecided,” said Cas, the certainty in his voice surprising him.

“You don’t have to change your major just to take some time Castiel. Why, pray tell, are you changing your major at all, let alone changing it to _undecided_?” asked his father, barely keeping his tone civil.

With a smile, Cas said simply, “Because I am.”

When he’d finished speaking with his parents, they knew as much as he did. They knew he wasn’t ruling out medical school completely, but that he wanted to open his mind to other possibilities so he could be certain of his decision. They also knew he was happy… because he told them so. He was the happiest he’d ever been, and since they loved him, he knew that would matter to them.

With the worst behind him, Cas got up and headed out into the living room. The skunky, sweet smell of pot lingered in the air and a half eaten pizza was sitting open on the coffee table along with about twenty empty beer cans.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Cas looked over at his boyfriend and smiled. This was his new life with Dean Winchester: messy, chaotic, unpredictable, and still completely wonderful. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Your comment could MAKE MY DAY!


End file.
